


The Dark Heir and the Shadow of Dysphoria

by Tohshi



Series: The Dark Heir [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Parents, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Autism, Child Abuse, F/F, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Graphic Description of Corpses, Hogwarts, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Other, POV First Person, POV Third Person Limited, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Queer Character, Trans Character, perspective changes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2018-12-23 03:11:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 58,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11980854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tohshi/pseuds/Tohshi
Summary: Despite not being the most popular of kids, Blake has little to complain about. He has a family that loves him and a good friend. His only friend but quality over quantity. Despite all of this something has always felt off to Blake. When he finds out about being a Wizard as his brother heads off to school leaving him behind he thinks he knows what has been plaguing him.





	1. Prologue

A knocking came from the front door. It had been a strange day for the Webb family, but visitors in the quiet apartment complex that they lived in was something well out of the ordinary. The knock was polite and unrushed, which in of itself made it further an oddity to Julian Webb. Andrew Webb grabbed his son and stepped out of view. Oddities in this part of town were not something to be taken lightly. Not when you were the openly gay couple, in a less than desirable part of town. Not with all the madness that was going on in the area of recent, so many unexplained disappearances. People dead with no indication as to how, and strange happenings all around. So when the knock came for a second time, Andrew Webb was hidden in the single bedroom, away from sight.

Julian Webb opened the door to find a strangely dressed man with a long grey beard that stretched halfway down his chest. There was a kindness twinkling in his eyes, and something very disarming about him, but what caused Julian to drop his guard, was the small newborn child with messy black hair, and dark brown eyes, babbling at him happily. The infant seemed too young for that, but Julian wasn’t the most knowledgeable when it came to babies.

“Hello,” said the bespectacled old man. His soft voice showed his age, and further disarmed Julian. “I am Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster for a prestigious school in the hills of Scotland. If I could be so bold as to take a moment of your time, and the use of your sink, I would be quite appreciative.”

“Oh, uh, of course,” said Julian Webb. “I am Julian Webb. We weren’t expecting guests, so if you would forgive the mess.”

The house wasn’t too messy, but as a toddler ran amok in it on a daily basis, it was far from perfect. Julian didn’t mind nearly as much as Andrew did, but both accepted that children would be children. Sometimes one would have to walk a minefield of toys to enter the house, but thankfully tonight, the tripping hazard had been limited to a single corner of the house.

The kitchen was attached to the main room, and was hidden in a small alcove just past the front door. Dumbledore immediately filled up a bottle with lukewarm water and formula. Once Julian had left the room to assure Andrew that all was fine, Albus was able to purify the water with a flick of his wrist. The newborn in his arms cooed at the bottle waiting hungrily. On some level, Dumbledore felt blessed by the child’s lack of fussiness and general agreeable nature.

“So what brings you to our humble home?” asked Andrew, as he came out of the bedroom with toddler Michael in his arms. “We don’t usually get visitors.”

“I can’t imagine why, the both of you have been more than friendly,” said Dumbledore. “But alas, the world can be cruel to people like us. My visit today is to talk to you about your son, and to hopefully make an addition to your family.”

“You want us to take care of that babe?” asked Julian. “Surely there are others better suited, we have a hard enough time with just the three of us.”

“Well, if you would indulge me, I feel it is probably best to speak of your son first,” said Dumbledore. “Perhaps over tea?”

“Oh yeah, that would be good,” said Andrew. “Um, give me a second, we have a large variety, so whatever you want. Julian can you get that?”

Julian nodded and started a pot of water. It would be a bit before it would boil, as the stove in their apartment was less than stellar. Still, the tea selection was quite extensive, and Julian always enjoyed picking new ones at the store.

“Oh any will do,” said Dumbledore. “Surprises are always pleasant.”

Andrew led Dumbledore into the living room, which was still joined, but it still seemed like the polite thing to do. The Webbs only had one couch and a coffee table, as entertaining guests had never come up in their time together, at least, not at the house. When Andrew offered Dumbledore the only seat in the house, Dumbledore just smiled and brought out his wand. It was a breach of the law, but that was what he was going to do anyway. No one outside of the room would know either way. With a flick of his wrist, a couch popped out of nothing and into existence across from the original. It was a bit of an older one, with frayed armrests and a green velvet upholstery, outdated for this decade. Andrew nearly dropped Michael as he stared at the wizard across from him

“H-h-how?” asked Andrew.

“Oh, I am sure you know that,” said Dumbledore. “Magic after all, is most’s first guess, but, why now? That is a question to be asked. Normally a wizard such as myself would not reveal this to a muggle, one with no magic, but as you eventually would have been told, a bit of an early explanation is in order. I need a favor of you. Magic is as real as anything else. I am headmaster of a school that teaches young witches and wizards how to use magic. A school, that in the future, young Michael will attend.”

“Michael is a wizard?” Andrew asked in disbelief. “Honey, come in here. You need to listen to this.”

 

“I can hear from here,” said Julian. “Besides, that explains this morning. I told you it was magic.”

“Ah yes,” said Dumbledore. “Would you mind explaining what happened?”

“I cut my finger earlier today, making lunch,” said Julian as he came into the living room with a tray of tea makings. “The knife slipped and I almost lost a finger. Andrew came over holding Michael, and when Michael saw my finger, he screamed, then magically my finger was fixed. It was the most amazing thing! Well, until you made a couch out of nothing.”

“Quite an interesting use of accidental magic,” said Dumbledore. “The wizarding world will be better for having Michael in it, healers are in high demand. Do not fret about funding for Michael’s schooling. Hogwarts sets aside some funds for muggle-born wizards each year. Sadly, it is less than I would want provided, but it covers the basic needs of each student. Budget concerns are a matter for the board of directors, and they tend to be a bit difficult to sway. Alas, that is neither here nor there. I would ask that you keep this knowledge from Michael, as young lips are want to spill secrets. At least until his eleventh birthday, when he will receive his acceptance letter from Hogwarts, as is tradition. The following year’s schooling will be at Hogwarts.”

“If he would have been told on his eleventh birthday, why tell us now?” asked Andrew. “Why keep it a secret?”

“There is a law in the wizarding world, prohibiting the revealing of magic to muggles. A law that I have now broken by telling you two. You would have been informed on Michael’s eleventh birthday, as the law allows for that, but to tell you now is a breech,” said Dumbledore. He took a sip of his tea and was pleasantly surprised by the flavor. He would have to get more of this on his way home. “Great choice of tea. As for the why, that is because I need a favor from you. One that I feel would not do well to ask of you, unless you know some details.”

“What sort of details? Is that babe a wizard or witch too?” asked Julian.

“That they are, but no, it is the parentage of the child that is most pressing. Normally when a child who has no family that will take them in the Wizarding world, they end up in muggle orphanages. From my experience they never get adopted. Young Witches and Wizards can not control their magic, and so weird, unexplained things happen around them. Things that make them undesirable to be adopted. I wish the case was different, but it has not been a high priority with what is going on now,” said Dumbledore. “The wizarding world is at war with a powerful dark wizard. As there are evil muggles, there are evil wizards. Most are not so inclined, but some are. This younglings parents are one such group. Their mother gave the child up, trying to hide them from their father. The person who she gave them to, has passed away. I wish to spare this child the grief of knowing that their father is a mass murderer.”

“Is the babe safe? Can we trust them?” asked Andrew. “You are asking us to take in the child of a murderer, but I have to look out for Michael first.”

“No child is born evil. Jealousy and hatred sink into them as the world feeds them such things. I want something better than that for the babe. If given a loving family and home, then it is likely they will not follow in their parents' footsteps,” said Dumbledore.

“So why us?” asked Julian. “Surely there are others who could do a better job at this than us. Growing up with two dads isn’t going to be the most peaceful of lives.”

“Sadly, I think you are right on that last bit. But I want them to understand that those who are different than us are human still. That those differences are small compared to that,” said Dumbledore. “Further, I think your family will do wonderful. A caring older brother and two fathers who are willing to fight for their family will most assuredly give them the love they so badly need.”

“Julian, I think we should do this. We wanted a sibling for Michael and this way we don’t have to go through the mess that was getting Michael again. Dumbledore is right, the babe does deserve a loving family. We can give them that,” said Andrew.

“Okay,” said Julian. “You’re right. We will do it.”

“Great,” said Dumbledore. “I understand that funds may be a problem with a sudden addition to the family and I would like to put that to ease for you. I can provide a bit of child support each month for them. Also, as a way of saying thank you and to provide a better life later for these two I shall set up a small stipend for the two of them out of my personal pocket. It will more than cover their needs during school and for a while after.”

“Thank you,” said Andrew. “What is the baby's name?”

“I don’t know. I assume that the child’s mother gave them one, but I was not informed of it. Further still I think that such a shadow might be best lifted from them. I had no right to name them, but you do,” said Dumbledore.

“Well, that leaves it to you, Julian,” said Andrew. “I am horrible at names.”

“Well can I hold them for a bit?” said Julian. “I need to get a feel for them.”

Dumbledore handed the newborn over to Julian and then proceeded to drink a second cup of tea. It truly was one of the best tea’s he had had in a while. Dumbledore wanted to have more time, but the longer he stayed, the more likely it would be that those the babe was to be hidden from would find this young family. The world had enough tragedy it needed no more.

“I must bid you farewell,” said Dumbledore. “My duties as a headmaster are never done and my other responsibilities are such that I sadly can’t take much more time here. Thank you for that and here is the first month support.”

He left an envelope on the coffee table and with a slight pop disappeared from the Webbs house. Andrew and Julian Webb were still just trying to process what had happened. For one of them magics realness was the focus of his thoughts, but for Julian it was the babe that now was cradled in his arms. A little baby boy.

“What do you think of Blake?” asked Julian. “It means light and dark.”

“Blake Webb sounds good. I think you have a new name now little one,” said Andrew. He scooped up Michael, who had been uncharacteristically quiet for the Dumbledore’s visit. “Met your new brother Michael. I know you will look after him too.”

“Brother,” said Michael. “My brother.”


	2. A day like no other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Michael's eleventh birthday a surprise visitor changes both Blake's and Michael's life forever.

I ran down the street the towards the apartments where we lived. Michael was close behind me. I knew he was letting me win our race home, but I didn’t mind. It was just fun to spend time with him. He had distanced himself from me at school, and so during winter break I tried to squeeze as much play time with my brother as possible. Even in the cold, wet weather of winter had not stopped us from getting out and enjoying break as much as possible.

Dad and Pa though were not the happiest with the two of us running around our neighborhood by ourselves. I was almost nine years old and I could take care of myself, but Pa made me promise to stick with Michael and to not wander off by myself. He was always a bit scared, but I didn’t really understand why. The neighbors were nice, for the most part, and Michael and I would get treats from the nice lady who lived on the floor below us. Mrs. Smith was always so nice and she had the best brownies ever. She even watched us when Dad and Pa were at work.

The part of town we lived in though was a bit of a dump. There was an abandon building across the street from us. Pa had forbid us from entering it, but Michael said we could go on an adventure together there. We had met Mr. Poe there he lived in one of the rooms near the top. Said it was his penthouse that the world owed him. Mr. Poe had all sorts of stories to tell, but Michael wouldn’t let me spend time with him if Michael could help it. I didn’t really get why everyone was so protective of me. I was a big boy now. Even if I stilled played with my dolls.

We raced up the stairs to the third floor where Mrs. Smith lived. Dad and Pa were at work which meant Mrs Smith was in charge. I had no complaints there. We always ate the best on those days. Mrs Smith never had an empty fridge and our own was far too frequently barren. Even with both Dad and Pa working things were tight. I didn’t mind though. Sure the kids at school made fun of me for my used clothes but they just didn’t understand the amazing things one could find at a thrift store. I had a one eyed baby doll who I had named Amanda and then a wolf stuffy who was Mr. Grins, on account of his lower jaw having been ripped off and sewed back on at an odd angle. My room was filled with toys other kids had passed over or gotten rid of.

“How was your adventure, boys?” asked Mrs. Smith when we entered her one bedroom apartment. “Are you ready for lunch?”

“Of course,” I said. “Thank you. The adventure was awesome, and I beat Michael in our race.”

“That’s because I let you win,” said Michael.

“Yeah because you are the best brother,” I retorted.

Lunch consisted of roast beef sandwiches and a cup of hot chocolate. The sandwiches even had tomato and lettuce. Michael had mustard with his but I detested the stuff. How he could eat such a spicy food was beyond me. Still it made him happy. So I didn’t even complain when Mrs. Smith would mix up our sandwiches leaving me to have a bite of the nasty yellow goop.

Mrs. Smith’s house was filled with pictures of her son and daughter. Her son had joined the military and ended up living in India with his wife and Mrs. Smith’s daughter lived up north with her husband. They never visited much and I knew that made Mrs. Smith sad. For the past four years Mrs. Smith had been a part of our christmases. She didn’t want to be alone and Dad couldn’t say no to that. Mr. Smith had died of pneumonia just four years ago. It was sad but he had lived a long life and Mrs Smith seemed to be doing well.

“So Michael I have your birthday present ready,” said Mrs. Smith. “Do you want it now or later when your dads get home?”

Michael sat thinking about that question for far longer than I would have. He liked to wait for Dad and Pa and I honestly didn’t know how he managed to do that. I would be dying knowing that I could open a present, but wasn’t going to. Michael got lucky with his birthday being so close to Christmas. All his friends were free and he got so many presents in one week. Sure it was really only a handful but it felt like a lot to me. But the gift that both Michael and I were looking forward to were the ones from Papa. He always had such wonderful gifts. They never seemed to get worn out or old, and they were some of my prized possessions. On Christmas for a few hours we would get to see Papa.

“I think I’ll wait,” said Michael. “Thank you though. You are coming to dinner tonight right?”

“Of course I am,” said Mrs. Smith. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Mrs. Smith’s house was quite cozy. While it had far too much stuff that wasn’t to be touched for my liking, I never felt out of place. There were even pictures of Michael and I on the fridge. Mrs. Smith had a thing for mice and she keep a pair of them as pets. They were cute little things that would let you pet them if you were gentle. Michael was better at that than I was. I tried my best but I always ended up petting them too hard, and they would want to be put back. I just learned to not pet them and instead let them crawl all over me. It wasn’t the same but I got to be with the little guys for a bit.

Dad and Pa had said we couldn’t have pets due to the rules of the apartments. Pa explained that it was due to the cost of one and how we would have to pay a bunch of money to have one and then a bit of money every month to feed them. Pa didn’t like it when i suggest that we could just feed the dog I wanted and I could go hungry to pay for it. It would have been a small price to pay. I could always have lunch at school or at Mrs Smith’s if that meant getting a puppy. But it wasn’t to be.

Abigail, my best friend, let me borrow her puppy to take on walks. It was at least a bit of time with a dog and I did love Barty a lot. Abigail was just a bit younger than me and we were in the same class. She didn’t mind that I prefered to play with her than any of the other boys, and according to her I didn’t have cooties like the other boys. I had complained about that one but secretly I was happy for her approval. I didn’t fit with the other boys and playing dolls and house with Abigail was far more fun to me. Dad and Pa seemed to not care that I wasn’t into boy things and they always were pretty supportive of my likes. Michael said it was because I was like Dad and Pa. That I was gay, but I didn’t like boys like that at all. He just laughed and said that I would someday. Abigail agreed that boys were just icky, except for me, of course.

It was a secret that Michael didn’t know I knew but on the last day before Christmas break I had stumbled in on him kissing Burke. I had kept hidden because I knew that Burke would get mad at me and at Michael if he knew I saw. I didn’t want Michael to get hurt so I kept my mouth shut. It wasn’t the first person I had found him kissing though. A few months earlier he had been kissing a girl named Anne. I didn’t know her last name but the two of them were fairly public about ‘going out” together whatever that meant. Michael had loved her, but she ended up leaving him for some other guy. Michael was crushed by this and that is when he had become friends with Burke. Even if I disliked Burke, Michael was happier with him than without, and I hoped that Michael would make Burke nicer. It seemed to be working so far.

There was a knock on the door. Which was unusual and even Mrs Smith looked a bit surprised. Pa had been very strict that Michael and I were to never answer the door. That an adult had to be the one to do it. So both Michael and I sat watching as Mrs Smith opened the door. As she did I lit up. It was Papa. How he had known we were here was beyond me, but I didn’t dwell on that for more than a second. I jumped from my chair and ran into a hug with Papa. His long silvery beard always tickled me as I did so, and in a strange way I felt so very safe with him.

“Why hello, Blake,” said Papa. “It is good to see you too. I hope my intrusion isn't too disruptive. I have a special gift for Michael to deliver. One that requires a personal touch.”

“Ah,” said Mrs Smith. “You must be their grandfather I hear so much about from Blake and Michael.”

“In a manner of speaking yes,” said Papa. “I am not related to the boys but in every other way they are my grandchildren. I am sure you can understand.”

“Would you like to come in? We were just having lunch and I could whip you up a sandwich real quick,” said Mrs Smith.

“That would be lovely,” said Papa. He lifted me up and freed his legs from my grip. For being a very old man he was quite strong. He always had such weird outfits and today was no exception with his pinstripe pink suit. There just was something extravagant about what he wore every time I saw him and it just made him feel even more like family.

Mrs Smith set a sandwich down for Papa and the three of us sat back down to our lunches. It was unusual to see Papa before Christmas and I couldn't’ help but think there was something big that he wanted to share with us. This was the first time I ever remembered him being here on either of our birthdays.

“So are you still working, Mr?” asked Mrs Smith.

“Oh yes where are my manners,” said Papa. “Albus Dumbledore. A pleasure to meet you Mrs Smith. Michael has written me about you a number of times. As for work I still haven’t managed to leave my job. I love it too much.”

“What do you do for a living then?” asked Mrs Smith.

“Papa is a headmaster at a school in Scotland. He is really important,” I said. “It is why we don’t get to see him all that often.”

“Sadly my duties do keep me away from my family more than i would like,” said Papa. “How has your break been, boys?”

“Awesome,” I said. “Michael and I have played pretty much everyday except on Monday when I went over to Abigail’s house.”

“It has been pretty fun,” said Michael. “I wish a friend of mine had been able to come over but he hasn’t even called.”

“Is it Burke?” I asked. “I hope he calls. You two should have fun on break.”

Michael blushed at, that and tried to hide it by staring at his hands in his lap. It wasn’t working and I suddenly felt a bit worried that Michael knew I knew. I didn’t want him to hate me like he had after I had told Dad that he was kissing Anne. He didn’t speak to me for a week. That was a miserable week.

“I’m sure he will contact you,” said Papa. “Sometime people need a bit of time to come to terms with their feelings. I’m sure that this Burke wants to see you again.”

We didn’t talk much for the rest of the meal. Mrs Smith was always a bit weird when it came to Dad and Pa kissing, but she never said anything about it. I was growing more and more concerned about Michael’s reaction. He was surely going to yell at me when the two of us were alone. He was normally kind to me but sometimes he would get really angry. It hadn’t happened in a while but I didn’t want to have to sit through that.

“So would it be possible for me to borrow the boys for a bit?” asked Papa. “I want to take Michael out to get his gift. We will be gone for the rest of the day.”

“Let me call Julian,” said Mrs Smith. “But i don’t see why not.”

Ten minutes later and the three of us were headed out the door. Papa headed towards the stairs but instead of down he headed up. Curiosity got the best of me and I raced up them after him. Michael was much more reserved in this and I knew he was mad at me.

Papa walked right into our house but I could swear that the door had been locked when we left. It was a good thing that we had returned now before going shopping as I didn’t want to have our house broken into. It had happened once before when we had been out to diner for my previous birthday. The thieves had stolen our television and a number of other things but it was the feeling that our houses sanctity had been destroyed that was what stuck with me even to this day. I didn’t want to be responsible for that again.

Papa closed the door behind us and I heard it latch as we piled into the living room. Michael was giving me the stink eye but I did my best to ignore it. We both took a seat on the couch on opposite ends from each other. Papa took a seat in the armchair the Pa loved the most. It was closest to Michael.

“Before I begin, might the two of you clear the air,” said Papa.

“I’m sorry I embarrassed you,” I said. I paused for a moment before continuing. “And I’m sorry that I spied on you and Burke a week ago.”

Michael seemed to be further despondent after that and I worried I had made a mistake in mentioning that day. After a moment or two Michael though dispelled that worry when he looked up to me with confusion and pain. He wasn’t mad at me but himself.

“Michael, I figured that you of all people would know that it is perfectly acceptable to kiss a boy if you want to,” said Papa. “Why does this have you so scared?”

“Because I don’t just like boys but girls too,” said Michael. “Joseph said you can’t love both of them but I do and I feel like I am a freak and Blake wasn’t the only one who caught us. Henry White walked in on us and he said some nasty things that I don’t want to repeat. And Joseph won’t talk to me even though I have called him twice now.”

“Young love can be a fickle thing,” said Papa. “If I had to wager a guess that Joseph has not had the support that you do and being caught scared him. Give him time and he may come around but if he doesn’t that doesn’t change that your feelings are valid. There are plenty who love regardless of gender and they are no less valid for it.”

I scooted over across the couch and hugged Michael. It was a bit awkward from that angle but He did his best to return the hug. We sat there for a moment or two past when it became awkward but i did my best to not let that get to me.

“Sorry for being mad at you,” said Michael. “I let my fear get the best of me. I won’t do that again.”

We had a quiet moment just sitting there. Papa seemed in no hurry today which was unusual for him but I didn’t mind the extra time. I didn’t even bother to look away till papa started to talk.

“I have good news for you Michael,” said Papa. “I have a letter for you here from the school that I work at.”

Pulling out a letter from his suit’s jacket he handed it to Michael. It was made of parchment that looked ancient and had a red seal on one side that had a large H stamped into it. Papa blatantly refused to tell us about his work and so seeing a letter from the school he worked at was something special indeed. Michael was trembling as he opened the letter. It read:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Webb,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 july.

Sincerely yours,

Minerva Mcgonagall

Deputy Headmistress

The following page had a list of supplies but I had stopped reading at that point. Reading was one of the few things I was better than Michael at. At least in terms of speed. He was always more diligent than I was but I was proud of my talent. Even if Michael was right about me not deserving them.

“So magic is real?” said Michael. “And I am a wizard?”

“Yes to both accounts,” said Papa. “Your fathers have known since I brought Blake to your home all those years ago now. But now the two of you can know.”

“Why keep it a secret?” asked Michael. “Is it like how we shouldn't talk about Dad and Pa being gay?”

“Nothing so horrid as that. No a long time ago the muggles, non-magical folks, hunted wizards and witches. It was decided that the Wizarding world would go into hiding to protect ourselves without causing harm to the muggles. Part of that hiding is not telling muggles about magic. I decided that it would be best to save this revelation till you were old enough to know how to keep a secret. This goes doubly so for you Blake. I know you are very honest but you must keep this quiet,” said Papa.

I felt bad for having to be called out about this. I was terrible at secrets which is why Michael got mad at me so often. Even when I was trying to lie everybody could see through it and I tended to find that it was just easier to admit any fault up front. It made enemies of most of my classmates. Even Michael knew to not involve me when it came to rule breaking.

“Honesty is a virtue that you should not be ashamed of. It is honorable to stick to the truth as you do but as I am sure you know a white lie is sometimes the only safe thing to do. I know you can do this,” said Papa. “Now I figured that as it is your birthday and you will need school supplies that we would go shopping for them today. Diagon Alley should be relatively quiet this time of the year.”

“Diagon Alley?” asked Michael.

“It is a gathering of magical shops hidden from Muggles here in London. I’m sure you will find the place to be as enchanting as I did on my first visit if not more. There are some things though that I must go over with the two of you before we head out,” said Papa. “I am a bit famous in the wizarding world and there will be no escaping that on our trip today.”

“Is that because of all the titles you have here in the letter?” asked Michael. “I don’t understand what some of them mean but they seem important.”

“Many in the wizarding world think they are. I am not so convinced but I shall not hide from you that I have much influence in the wizarding world. I regularly consult the Minister of Magic himself. My position is such that some try to use me to gain some advantage. I am most adept at avoiding this but the two of you offer a new avenue to do so. Your connection to me makes you valuable to those who would see to bend me to their will. While I will protect you the best I can from this it would be remiss of me to not at least prepare you for that,” said Papa. “Do not be afraid I am quite capable of protecting you two and I am not expecting anything such event accuring. But some might come to you with sweet promises. I know that you are a great judge of quality in a person Michael. Listen to your gut and when in doubt ask me. Blake you would do best to heed your brother’s warnings. And to both of you stick close on this trip and don’t wander off. We have all day till your dinner so we may take our time and look at whatever you want but as a group.”

“Okay,” Michael and I promised.

“Well then we had best get going. There is so much to see,” said Papa. “Take my hand. This might be a bit disorienting. As long as your grip is sure no harm shall come to you.”

There was a tugging as if at the base of my skull that yanked me back into a strange nothingness. My insides felt like they were being folded and crunched up. The whole experience was quite disturbing but thankfully it was rather quick as we found ourselves somewhere very different indeed.

In every direction there were shops with the most magical and wonderful of displays. Many of them had things floating in mid air, some stationary and some dancing. The people who walked past us were even more unusually dressed than I was used to of Papa, and many wore what amounted to robes. There was a cafe nearby advertising having pumpkin cider and peppermint pickups, whatever those were. There was no denying it now. Magic was real.

“Papa,” I said. “Am I a wizard as well? You said muggles aren’t allowed to know about magic but you told me so I must be a wizard as well?”

“I am allowed to tell the family of muggle-born witches and wizards when they have their letter delivered. But yes you are,” said Papa. “When you turn eleven you too will be welcome to attend Hogwarts.”

“I don’t know how I am going manage to wait that long,” I said. “Michael you will have to tell me everything.”

“I will when I get home from school,” said Michael. “I don’t know how I would do that while you are here in London and I in Scotland.”

“I have a solution to that but first we must visit the most stuffy and boring of places here. Gringotts the wizarding bank,” said Papa. “This way boys. Do keep up.”

The three of us walked down the street which would twist and turn in ways that made no sense but I had long since stopped trying to make sense of all of this. The road being so twisted was the least unusual thing that we passed. In one shop there was a display of urns and pots that were stacked up ontop of eachother but instead of resting inside the lip of the one below it the pots would dance and wave across the rim and never seemed to care that gravity should be calling them to the ground. There were so many things to look at that I couldn’t keep track of it all and keep up with Papa and Michael. I kept having to run after them to catch up.

Eventually we came up to a large white marble building that reminded me of the American White house or of Greek temples. It was all twisted though as well and did not look like it should be able to hold its own weight. On the front door was a poem warning thieves that they would bite off more than they could chew if they tried to steal from the bank. If the outside was wondrous it was the inside that knocked me off my feet. The large dome ceilings that danced with paintings and magic gave a sense of grandness to the area. Pictures of strange squat creatures with long noses and ears dominated the walls around us. Each was of varying size but all was of great quality. More of those creatures wandered around the building with a sense of purpose that I didn't’ understand but was in awe of anyway. One of the goblins saw us and he seemed to have a slight hint of happiness when he looked at Papa. That all soured as his eyes fell on me. His glare was filled with vitriol and spite. I hid behind papa’s legs but kept my eyes on him.

After a moment he came up to us carrying a sealed letter. He stopped a few feet short of us and said, “Just a moment of your time if you will. I have a letter that I believe belongs to the young one there.”

He handed me the letter his eyes being glued to it and my hands. There was a reddish brown seal that had a skull with a snake coming out of it. The whole thing reminded me of dried blood. I pulled on the ribbon that was stuck under the seal. It stuck me and I jerked away. A small amount of my blood flowed from my finger. It had gotten on the ribbon. The ribbon started to dissolve and soon the envelope sprung open. On some level I had been hoping for something more.

The goblin spat on me and said, “You should have died when you were a babe.”

He stormed off and I was left feeling confused and hurt. I didn’t understand what I had done. I felt that the letter might have something to do with that. Here I was ruining Michael’s big day and I didn’t even know why.

“Hey don’t worry about that jerk,” said Michael. “Who ever your parents were they don’t matter. You are my brother and that will never change. Now lets see that letter.”

“Maybe it would be best if we waited a bit for that. I’m sure you will find a key in that envelope that is of some importance though so keep it safe,” said Papa. “After we finish our business here we can find a quiet place to sit down and read it.”

He lead us up to the counter where an older goblin sat busying himself with paperwork. He had as mean of a face as the previous goblin but he smiled at Papa when we came up to him. I was so short he had to lean over his desk to see me.

“Ah. Welcome to Gringotts, Professor,” said the Goblin. “What can we do for you today?”

“I need to make a withdrawal from two vaults today. Here is the first ones key,” said Papa. “Blake will you hand me your key from the envelope?”

I handed the fancy golden key that was cold to the touch. In its bow there was the numbers three thousand four hundred sixty seven. It seemed like such a large number for a vault but what did I know. Dumbledore presented the key to the goblin.

“Hmm, everything is in order,” said the Goblin. He turned around and called out, “Gornuk, take these gentlemen to their vaults.”

A rather tall goblin came walking over he had an air to him that screamed a sense of pride. He seemed a bit gruff though even by what seemed to be Goblin standards. He smiled at Papa so he couldn’t have been all bad.

“Right this way Professor Dumbledore,” said Gornuk. He lead the three of us out one of the many doors that lined the edge of the main room. “If you don’t mind we will stop at vault four hundred four first. It is on the way.”

“No problems there,” said Papa. “I would not want to waste more of your time.”

We all piled onto a dingy cart that was attached to a track. It reminded me of a rollercoaster and as soon as the thing shot off I couldn’t help but feel the comparison was apt. Though this was a far wilder ride than any I had ever been on. I was sad that the ride was coming to an end as we slide up to a platform. Gornuk jumped off the cart and onto the platform. Papa beckoned for us to follow.

Gornuk lead us across the multi alcoved platform that looked like it had been grown out of the cavern we were in. There was no decoration down here only support pillars and the walls of the alcoves. Each had a different symbol etched into them and a pair of brass numbers beside them. Gornuk walked with purpose and didn’t even look at the numbers as we passed till he came across one marked four oh four. He took the key that Papa had brought and put it into the only discernible feature of the wall. With a turn of the key the wall started to melt away revealing a decent sized chamber behind it. It was filled with a pile of gold in the form of coins. There were more of them there than I would have been able to count to if just from boredom of trying. Where all this money had come from was beyond me and I turned to Papa.

“Whose gold is this?” I asked. “Is all of this yours?”

“This gold is for you and Michael. When you were born I put aside some of my own funds to make sure no matter what the two of you would be well looked after,” said Papa.

“You didn’t have to go without did you?” asked Michael. “We don’t need this much. I don’t think anyway.”

“No this is but a small amount of the Dumbledore family fortune. This did little if nothing to deprive me and even if it did it would be a price worth paying,” said Papa. “You two have given more joy in these last few years than I had had in more than I can remember.”

“We love you too, Papa,” I said. “Thank you.”

“Your welcome,” said Papa. “Now let us grab enough for Michael’s school supplies and a bit extra for some spending money. Each gold piece is called a Galleon which is worth seventeen sickels and a sickle is worth twenty nine knuts. Based on your school supplies we need at least thirty Galleons. Michael why don’t you collect them and some extra. Here is a bag to hold them.”

Michael counted out careful forty five Galleons into the bag doing his best to not disturb the pile of coins that were somewhat haphazardly stacked. It took him a bit as he would stop to inspect one every so often. After he had a bag full he grabbed one more and handed it to me. The gold coin was surprisingly heavy for its size. On it there was a Goblin’s head on one side and a wizard I didn’t know on the other. There was a serial code that was engraved into the rim of the coin. I handed the coin back to Michael as I was notorious at losing small things like that. It was best that he take care of it. Michael never complained about that and I knew he liked that I trusted him. As he exited the vault he scuffed up my short but messy hair.

“On to the next vault, then?” asked Gornuk. “This one will take a bit more time to get to.”

He wasn’t lying as the trip to the next vault took nearly twice as long as the first one had. We passed under a strange waterfall but despite being soaked by that we were dry before we reached the vault. As we were coming to a slow we passed a much more open platform that held a dragon. It was huge and pale and it seemed to jolt awake as we rattled by. A gout of flame came shooting out above where we had been after we had passed. We came to a halt in front of a small platform with only a number attached to it. It matched my key. Gornuk stepped up on the platform and once more Papa motioned for me to join him on the platform.

As Michael was about to climb up after him, Papa said, “Stay in the cart Michael please. I need to make sure it is safe first.”

“Gringotts would never let a prestigious customer of ours to walk into a trap like that,” said Gornuk. “We goblins have honor even if you wizards don't want to see that.”

“I’m sorry for the implication. It is not you or Gringotts that I don’t trust but the person who set up this vault for Blake,” said Papa. “Blake please stay behind me until I say it is safe.”

I did as papa said as Gornuk went through many more layers of protections to open the vault. What ever was inside must have been important for certain. After the last layer of wall dissolved before us Papa was the first to enter the Vault while I stayed a few steps behind him. There was more gold in here than I had thought possible. With it was a number of jewels and other things that seemed of value. A necklace with a pendant was on display in front of the massive pile of gold that dwarfed the one we had just visited. Quicker than I had thought possible Papa had drawn a wand from his suite. He started to mumble something that I didn’t catch and every once in awhile his wand would glow slightly. Afterwards he moved to the side and faced me.

“Welcome to your inheritance by your mother,” said Papa. “I’m sure that your mother wanted you to have this locket. You do not have to but if you wish you can take it with you. Everything in this vault is yours.”

There was a big part of me that was excited to finally have some information about my birth parents. Dad and Pa didn’t have any answers or refused to share them and a part of me had always hoped that they had left something for me. That they had loved me. This seemed like a thing someone who loved their child would have done if they had the means. I reached out and picked up the necklace. It was a simple silver chain with a silver locket. It had an strange crest on it that was too small to make out any details in but I could tell that they had been extremely well crafted. Opening the locket I found a picture of a smiling woman in it. Her hair was frizzy like mine and she had dark eyes similar to mine. I knew at once that was my mother.

I put the amulet on over my head and tucked the locket under my shirt. I took a long look at the piles of gold and treasure. It all seemed so weird that this was all mine. The room had not been much bigger than the vault four oh four but it was far more filled.

“Can I take some money to buy Michael a few gifts?” I asked. “I have something at home for him and for Dad and Pa but it seems so small now.”

“If that is what you want but you needn’t shower them with gifts,” said Papa. “But the money is here for you do do as you please. No more than ten galleons though. That should be enough and then some.”

Michael was looking into the vault with a sense of awe. There wasn’t a shred of jealousy in his face just wonder. When he looked at me I could see that he was happy even though I felt like I was the one who had been given the better present today. It was his birthday and I was the one with a vault filled with more gold than I knew what to do with.

“Hey, Blake,” said Michael. “Look don’t worry about things. Everything is going to be fine. Now we can buy Dad and Pa the best christmas gift ever. We will have to be quick in shopping though to make sure we find it.”

“Yeah,” I said. This would be the best christmas ever. We only had four days to find such a gift and I didn’t even know where to start with this money. It would have to be spent here in the wizarding world.

I grabbed a handful of coins and passed them to Michael. After that I climbed back into the cart and we were back on our way to the surface. The trip up was much quicker than I had expected and did not follow the route we had come down on. Still it was exciting enough and both Michael and I did our best to enjoy the rollercoaster that was the cart and rail.

After we exited the bank having said our goodbyes and thankyous to Gornuk, the three of us found the nearest cafe. I wasn’t hungry but the prospects of reading the letter form my mother was beyond my ability to sit and wait for. I was far to excited.

I had always known that I was adopted. No one else in the family looked like me with my sickly pale skin and dark messy hair. Pa had much darker skin as did Michael and Dad was blonde and blue eyed but his skin was full of life while mine looked nearly dead. It had only taken a bit to put two and two together and with a bit of research into biology and something called genetics that I barely understood, there was no denying that I was adopted. I had after that confronted Dad and Pa. They assured me of their love for me and that even if I was adopted I would still always be their son. Michael had found it funny that I hadn’t till that point figured out I was adopted but he never treated me any different for it.

No one would ever speak of my biological parents. I could tell that Dad and Pa were hiding something from me but I had always trusted them to have had my best interest at heart. After all they had never hurt me or done anything mean even when I might have deserved it. Today just felt like a dark cloud had come into my family and nothing seemed so certain anymore. The goblin who spat on me and the vault had only brought so much confusion to me when taken together.

I pulled out the letter that I had folded up in my pocket. Slowly and with some trepidation I pulled it out and unfolded it. I sat there with it face down not wanting to find out what it said. The whole thing seemed weird to me and I wasn’t certain why I had so much anxiety over this. Michael had put his arm around my shoulders and did his best to calm me. The cocoa that Papa had ordered while I sat staring at the letter had arrived and I could tell that Papa was having second thoughts as well. Finally I flipped the letter and began to read:

Dear Hydra Lestrange,

If you are reading this then I failed to reunite with you as I had planned. I am sorry for that and I hope that you have had a fitting life. Hopefully some of the information contained will be redundant to you but I feel the need to tell you the truth. I am Bellatrix Lestrange your mother. Some Would call me a monster but I only was upholding the most noble tenets of witchcraft and Wizardry. You are of the most pure of bloods and I regret not being able to give you the upbringing that you deserved. As I have been unable to tell you this myself I fear that means that I have fallen in battle or that our most noble mission has failed.

You may yet have living relatives. Should you chose to look for them, they reside in the Malfoy, Black and Lestrange families. While your father has no relatives other than you he shall not fall so easily and in time you and him shall met. Strive to become worthy of your father for the Dark Lord does not suffer traitors of any kind. Again I am reminded that if you are reading this that I have failed. Do not follow in that. You will be the most powerful of wizards if you just set your mind to it and I expect that of you.

As those who you may end up with may disavow the old ways I shall have but a small primor on the purity of blood and its values. Magic is the most noble of things and this comes from our blood, from our heritage. Those who are of half blood have their uses but are not of the nobility that you are. They are beneath you. Muggles though are but a herd without a shepherd. We must exert control over them for their own good and those of them who would steal our power, the Mudbloods, they are the most foul and must be stomped out where they spring up.

Know that If I still yet draw breath that I will find you and bring you into the glory that is your birthright. I love you.

Your mother,

Bellatrix Lestrange

I wanted to run from this. I wanted to burn every part of me connected to this woman. She wanted to hurt Dad and Pa. It was clear that my mother had not been a nice woman. I wasn’t certain if monster was the right word for her but based on the goblin who had spit on me I was fairly sure

“Is she still alive?” I asked. “What does she mean by Mudblood?”

“Your mother is currently a resident of Azkaban and shall be so for the rest of her life however long that maybe,” said Papa. “Mudblood is a slur for those who are muggle born. It is an insult in the highest degree.”

“You don’t agree with her do you,” I asked. I glanced at Michael as my fear ran in overdrive. He was just sitting there staring with a bit of a stunned look on his face.

“No I find the ideology that she spouts to be of the most wretched in all of the wizarding world. I helped fight against your mother and the Dark Lord. We were victorious but at a great cost. Many who stood against the Dark Lord gave their lives in doing so,” said Papa. he looked at me with a look of sadness that I hadn’t seen in him ever before. “The actions of your mother and father do not reflect on you. Only your own actions and choices do. I have watched you grow into a caring kind young boy who could not be further from his parents if he tried. Do not let their demons drown you.”

“IS this what waits me in the wizarding world?” asked Michael. “How many are like this Bellatrix Lestrange?”

“More than I would like but not a majority at all,” said Papa. “Old ways die hard but that is what they are doing dying. I have done everything in my power to hurry them along their ways. But Hogwarts is a safe place away from this as much as possible. I can’t punish students for thinking like this but any actions enacting this I can. Please don’t let this taint your opinion of the Wizarding world.”

“I think that will be hard to not do,” said Michael. He turned to me and forced me to make eye contact with him. “I know you better than anyone and you are not like this woman. She may have given birth to you but that doesn’t mean you are like her and you have the choice to not be like her.”

“I’m sorry for ruining your birthday again. I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” I said.

“You haven’t ruined anything,” said Michael. “I have got to find out that magic is real and that I and you later are going to get to be wizards. But most importantly I spent the day with my family. With you.”

He hugged me and we sat there for a few moments. Michael was trying to hold back tears but I didn’t have the energy to even try. I let out my hurt over the monster that my mother was but there were tears of love mixed in with the ones of grief. Love of my family.

After our tears had dried some minutes later I was feeling rather drained but the cocoa that Papa had bought for us did just the trick in filling me up a bit. I wasn’t hungry but the hot drink filled me in other ways. It didn’t hurt that it was probably the best cocoa I had ever had. Michael downed his cup in one go and was looking much better for it as well.

“Who wants to go shopping now?” asked Papa.

He hadn’t even needed to ask the two of us were up and ready in a matter of seconds even our cups had made it to the dish bin inside the cafe. We headed back out into the increasingly busy alley. Despite the pick me up I was still feeling drained and I had a hard time paying attention to the great many things that we passed. It was a shame because some of them were quite interesting. The store that got my attention the most was the bookstore that we stopped by to get Michael’s books. While Michael combed the text book section I browsed the fiction. It seemed to me that magical fiction would be interesting to read and I wanted to have a go at it. I found a selection of short stories by some which I had no knowledge of but whoever this Rowling was they had put out quite a number of books that had been displayed prominently. Which meant they must have at least been popular. There was in the nonfiction section a large selection of books by a Gilderoy Lockhart that looked moderately interesting. I would have to ask about them for my birthday or something but Papa let me pick out one book for myself. I picked the fiction.

Our next stop was quite a bit more boring. Clothing shopping. It wasn’t that I found clothes boring it was just the ones that I really wanted to wear were in the girls section at most stores and while I had never asked I knew I wasn’t allowed to have them. II did however find some winter wear that seemed like a perfect gift for Dad. he liked to go on jogs when he could but he had always complained about the cold. The scarf I had found claimed to ward away the cold for the entire body. When Michael walked out with his school robes I did so with the scarf.

The stop by the apothecary to collect a set of basic potions supplies had me as close to out the door as possible. The place smelled of overcooked eggs and rotten cabbage which was a most unpleasant smell. I had always been a bit squeamish and the smell alone upset my stomach. Thankfully they had prepared sets of the stuff that was all sealed up. Our visit only lasted long enough for Michael to be wrung up.

We then went to a place to acquire a chest for all of this stuff we had been gathering to be put into. This had so many things in it that I found absolutely fascinating. For being a store that mostly dealt with boxes that had lids it caught my imagination. Some had been enchanted to be lighter in weight. Somewhere bigger on the inside which Pa would have found to be quite interesting. But even still the variety of the types and styles were as much as interesting as anything else. We had gotten a more simple chest that had a handle and wheels and had been enchanted to be lighter.

We were headed on our way to find a cauldron and scales for Michael. Papa had decided that better quality was in order over the ones on sale at the Apothecary and both Michael and I had no arguments there. Papa had talked about how while the standard pewter ones were plenty find to get a job done they had a tendency to melt if a potion was done poorly and he wanted to get Michael a more robust one. That and the one that was more sturdy at the Apothecary was self stirring which Papa had claimed were for those to lazy to stir for themselves or for cooking and not for proper potion making.

While we were on the way to the other shop that would carry what we needed we passed by a shop that I had to stop by. The place was filled with musical instruments of all types and kinds many of which I had no idea what they were. I had money for once and I had wanted to learn to play violin for a long time. Ever since Pa had taken Michael and I to a free showing of a local symphony. It was just the most wonderful thing I had ever heard and until today seen. This seemed like my only option to achieve my dreams as Dad and Pa had stated prior that money was too tight to get my an instrument.

“Papa, can we stop here?” I asked. “I really want to at least check prices of a violin. I really want to learn.”

“As you have told me numerous times,” said Papa. “But i don't’ see why not. It can’t hurt to check.”

With no small amount of glee I walked into the shop trying my best to not be overly excited. I was pretty certain that I was failing because Michael was following close behind me. They had a selection of books on how to play the various instruments and I found the one for Violin. It was only four sickles which seemed like a small amount of money to me. I pulled out the book and took it with me to look at their selection of Violins. They had many of them for being such a small shop with so many other instruments. The store keeper came waltzing over to us as if she were floating on the air itself. There was something particularly special about her and the way that she looked but I couldn’t really place it outside of her being one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen.

“Need help finding anything?” said the shop keep in a sing song voice. “We have more in back that we can’t display due to space.”

“I want to know how much a beginner's violin is,” I said. There were so many and I had no idea which were right for me. Their prices ranged from a five galleons to thousands of them. I could probably afford any of the ones I wanted with all the gold in my vault but I didn’t want to have to return to that place ever again if I could help it. “I want something that will last for a bit but isn't’ too expensive.”

“We have a few beginner ones here,” said the shop keep. “I would recommend this one.”

She pulled one down from the display that they were on. It was a bit on the small size but it still looked a bit big for me. It wasn’t the cheapest but was not far off at only ten galleons.

“This one is enchanted to take a beating so you don’t have to worry if you drop it,” said the shop keep. “The strings and bow will still wear out but enchanted strings are extremely expensive as they have to be goblin made to sound right. For a beginner I would recommend nothing less expensive as than this one. The sound quality is just not high enough. This one also comes with a bow and replacement strings.”

“Do you want to buy this?” asked Michael. “I know how much you want to learn and I wouldn’t mind having something to listen to from time to time. Why don’t I get it for you as an extra Christmas Present?”

“Would you?” I asked. I was just so excited.

“You just have to promise to practice all the time,” said Michael. “Besides I don’t really feel like the gift I had for you at home is good enough anymore.”

“I will practice everyday,” I said. “Is there anything else besides this book and the violin I would need?”

“You’ll want some resin for your bow and a chin rest. The resin is all the same but if you intend to practice a lot then a good chin rest will save you pain in the long run. I would recommend this one. It is enchanted to reduce the weight of the violin to prevent weariness,” said the shop keep. The one in question she was pointing out was three galleons in price and that seemed a lot considering the price of the violin.

I looked to Michael on a decision on that one. He was better at money than I was and while it did seem very useful it also seemed like a lot of money. Michael just smiled at me and turned to the shop keep and said, “We’ll take it. Does the violin come with a case?”

“Of course,” said the shop keep. She took the stuff from us and headed back behind the counter. “All of our cases are enchanted to be uncrushable. So your total is ten galleons and four sickles and two Knuts.”

Michael rummaged through the bag of change and took a sizable amount of what was left out of it. It was less than half though. The Store keep had just finished putting everything into the case for safe keeping and handed Michael the case. Moments later we were out the door with the case strapped across my back.

With the Cauldron and scales purchased, we headed to the last item on the list. Papa had said there was only one place to get this item and that it was where he had gotten his first wand. I was overly excited for this one as it was the symbol of a wizard. It was the wand that made the wizard and so far every other person we had interacted with had one and used it. This was the badge by which all wizards and witches were to be identified.

The shop was the oldest looking one that we had come across. The sign, which read Ollivander's, was in a large amount of disrepair and the windows were so dingy I couldn’t see was was inside of them. The shop was empty as we walked into the place. There were many shelves that ran to the ceiling. On each of them stacked to the brim was a number of boxes that were small and thin. There must have been more of them here than I had seen of Witches and Wizards so far. A small old man came walking out from behind a shelf. He had the look of a man who was more concerned with work than with being presentable and his front was coated in a layer of dust like he had leaned against something that had a thick layer on it. He was friendly seeming enough and he patted himself down before come over with his hand out for Papa to shake.

“Pleasure to met you here, Albus,” said the man I assumed was Ollivander. “It’s a bit unusual for you to bring a first year to my shop. And who might you two be?”

“Michael Webb,” said Michael. “This is my brother, Blake.”

“A pleasure to met you. Now let's get your measurements so this will go a bit quicker,” said Ollivander. He then started measure both of Michael’s arms with a tape measurer and soon he disappeared behind the shelf once more. He returned with a small new looking box. From it he pulled out a short wand and handed it to Michael. “Just give it a swish.”

Michael did so and nothing seemed to happen. Ollivander seemed undisturbed and walked off to find another wand. He came back with a much more dusty box and again he offered the wand within to Michael. This one had much more of a reaction as when swished through the air. A large explosion scattered the papers on the front desk and Michael quickly placed the wand next to the previous one.

“Hmm, getting closer I think,” said Ollivander. “I have one that I just made a few days ago. Might be worth a try.”

Ollivander had to go into the back of the shop and he came back with a wand that didn't’ have a box. It was a lighter wood and was a bit longer than the other two. This time when swished a shower of sparks flew out of the end like miniature fireworks. Ollivander seemed happy with that and did not take the wand back.

“A lucky wand. Most spend years on my shelf before finding their owner. Fourteen inch willow with phoenix feather core. Highly flexible. A good wand indeed,” said Ollivander. “A wand fitting of a healer. May you live up to its potential Mr Webb.”

With six galleons exchanged the three of us left the shop behind. Michael’s money bag was still plenty full. We had to get gifts for Dad still and I felt the need to get Michael something after he had gotten my Violin. We passed by a pet shop and I paused looking longingly at the animals inside. Many of them were creatures I didn’t recognize but they had dogs and cats as well as other more unusual creatures like bats and owls.

“Ah yes,” said Papa. “It is traditional for a young wizard to bring a pet to school with them. The most popular of course is an owl but cats are not out of the picture. Toads have fallen out of favor as of recent though. Why don’t we have a look at what they have?”

Michael seemed as happy about this as I was. He wouldn't’ have told anyone but he wanted a pet as much as I did. Sure it would hurt to have to walk out of here empty handed but looking would still be quite fun. Just inside there were a great number of bird cages each with an owl in it. A medium sized owl with dark nearly black feathers that were spotted caught my attention. Michael seemed enamored with a barn owl that was nearby. Michael was trying to get the owl to let him pet it with his finger and much to our surprise the owl hopped over and let him do so. After a moment Michael turned to look at the other animals and I followed behind him. The cats all ignored me as did the cute little rats. What caught my attention was a glass cage with a handful of snakes in it. I swear I could hear them arguing. Michael didn’t seem to find them at all exciting and had continued on to a group of lizards.

“Why are you all fighting?” I asked the snakes in a low voice. I wasn’t really expecting them to answer and was mostly just being curious.

“Because this one is hogging the heat lamp,” said one of the snakes who had turned to me. “He always does this and I am tired of it.”

“Could you move to let the other snake have a turn?” i asked of the one under the heat lamp. This one was much bigger and was quite a bit more intimidating.

“Fine, if just to get him to shut up,” said the larger snake. “You are a strange human. Most don’t talk to us.”

“I can’t see why not,” i said. “Any talking snake is a snake worth talking to.”

“I like this kid,” said the smaller snake.

Papa had come up over to me and smiled. He looked at the snakes before turning to me. He said, “Do not be alarmed but speaking to snakes is often looked down upon in the wizarding world. Many dark wizards have had this ability. That doesn’t make it dark or evil but the connotation is there in others mind.”

“Oh sorry,” i said. “I didn't realize that I was the one special. I just thought the snakes were.”

“Oh you are most definitely special and never think otherwise. Some may question you for that ability but it is not our abilities that define us but how we use them,” said Papa. “But for now it might be best to move on before you attract any more attention.”

I nodded and we went to look at the dogs. They were all fairly young and playful and I wanted one more than anything else but I knew that it was not a good idea. First off I wasn’t certain how we would keep it a secret but secondly a dog should have a yard which was a thing we most definitely didn’t have. After petting them for a while I went in search of Michael. He was back at the owls.

“I figure I should get an owl. That way I can send letters to you during the school year. I think maybe we should both get one so you don’t have to wait for me to write for you to write,” said Michael. “I’ve done the math and we have enough for two but that we might be a bit short after that. I don’t mind not having any spending money but I want to get Dad a gift.”

“How much would we have left?” I asked. “Does the price count the cage? So they have a place to sleep.”

“It does and we would have ten galleons left. I am just worried because I have no idea what to get Dad,” said Michael.

“We could get him some of that icky stuff he likes drinking,” I said. “I bet wizards have special ones.”

“I can’t imagine Dad being all too happy with that gift,” said Michael. “Maybe something for the house though. I saw a furniture shop a way back. Pa loves clocks we could get him one of those.”

“Yeah a clock,” I said. “So which owl do you want?”

“This one,” said Michael he pointed at the barn owl from earlier. “She is nice and friendly. Is there one that you like?”

I pointed at the dark owl from earlier. I liked her because she looked like the night sky and of myself. I said, “Her. Let's go pay then and find Papa wherever he wound up at.”

Michael and I carefully lifted the charges off the stand and walked up to the counter. I was carrying too much and nearly tripped as we did so. The store keep was a person who couldn’t have been much older than eighteen and seemed utterly uninterested in what was going on around them. Michael paid and we headed to the front of the store to find Papa.

It wasn’t hard to find him as he was talking to man right outside the pet shop. The man he was talking to was a greasy man whose hair was slicked back and had pale white skin. The two of them seemed to know each other but the man talking to Papa seemed a bit unpleasant to me. There was a second where his eyes seemed covered in hate at the sight of me but that faded quickly.

“So these are your adopted family?” said the man. “Not as great as I had thought they would be.”

“Ah but love doesn’t bend to greatness. In fact it is much more often the opposite,” said Papa. “Professor Snape, I wish to introduce you to my adopted grand children. Michael and Blake Webb.”

Papa pointed to each of us as he said our names. Professor Snape seemed to be measuring up each of us but his focus was mostly on Michael. I couldn’t tell how well Michael was standing up because Professor Snape’s face was as cold as stone.

“Starting school in september then, Mr Webb?” asked Professor Snape. “I will warn you that just because you are one of Professor Dumbledore’s favorites that I shall not do you any favors. I have strict standards for my potions classes. Maybe you will live up to them.”

“I’ll do my best, sir,” said Michael. There wasn’t any sense of fear in his words just pride. Both of us would do our bests to live up to the shadow cast by Papa whatever that might be.

“Well I must be off. My time is precious and I have little room to waste,” said Professor Snape. “We shall talk more upon your return, Headmaster.”

With that Professor Snape turned dramatically and stormed off towards what ever business he had to attend to. I wondered what his class would be like and while he scared me I was excited to get to go to Hogwarts in a few years time. Hopefully I would be able to get a bit of a head start beforehand from reading Michael’s school books.

“Two owls huh?” asked Papa. “Do they have names yet?”

“I was thinking Mercury,” said Michael. “After the roman god of messengers. And maybe for Blake’s we can name the owl Diana to fit the theme.”

Michael was a bit more studied in mythology that I was. I had read up on the greek gods but knew little of the roman ones. I liked the name and that they fit. The two of them would be sisters after all. I nodded my agreement.

“That is everything then unless you want to do some more shopping?” asked Papa.

“We want to go try to find a gift for Pa,” I said. “There was a furniture store and we think they might have clocks.”

“Oh they might but I have a better place,” said Papa. “This way boys.”

The shop he had in mind was perfect. The place was filled with clocks of all types and we quickly found a grandfather clock that the two of us thought would be perfect. It was enchanted to never need rewinding. It wasn’t the most expensive of the clocks but a bit of a problem occurred to us. The clock was far too heavy for any of us to carry and we were already filled with goods acquired. Papa came to the rescue and had it delivered using his money to do so. I knew Pa was going to love this thing and it was subtle enough magic to not be noticeable. Despite being a rocky day it had been fun and we were going out to eat tonight. It was nothing special but the place that Michael always wanted to go was the best food.


	3. Storms and Seperations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake visits his only friend just a few days before the start of class for Michael.

In two days I would be back to the monotony of muggle life.  September was almost upon it and with it Michael and i would part ways for the first time in my life.  I wasn’t looking forward to not seeing him for so long but there was no avoiding it.  On the upside it was only two more years before I would join him at hogwarts.  I did my best to not let the impending separation ruin the last days of summer.

Michael and I had been secretly practicing magic in the abandoned building next door.  Michael was much better at it than in no large part because his wand didn’t seem to like me.  Still I managed to pull of a light charm with ease by the time summer had rolled around and was working on another charm.  We had read the whole book each and had decided that charms were the least likely to have bad results so we had been practicing them.  Michael had a fairly large repertoire under his belt already.  He could do the light charm I could but also a shield charm and a charm that would unlock locked objects.  That one seemed to have the most interesting uses but we had made a promise to never use magic for bad things and that limited us to trying to unlock the front door without a key.  Michael seemed interested in testing jinxes but as we didn’t really know how to undo them it seemed like a bad idea even if I was game for being a test dummy.  Michael seemed more determined to not test them after I said I would live with whatever happened.

Papa had visited a number of times over the summer with tales of his school.  It was how we had found out that there were four houses that a new student got put into on the first day.  Michael was dead set on being a Gryffindor, and I was uncertain.  After I had asked which house my mother had been in I had decided that wherever I ended up at I didn’t want to be there.  But the other three seemed to be a toss up.  Ravenclaw was the easiest of what remained to eliminate.  Wit beyond measure was not something I felt I had and so I had decided on the grounds that Michael would clearly be a Gryffindor that I would do my best to follow after him.  Papa told us that we were getting ahead of ourselves.

Our summer was spent doing one of four things.  Practicing magic, dreaming about what adventures we could have at Hogwarts, practicing violin, or spending time with the few friends we had.  Burke had come around and Michael and him were dating now.  It was a thing of dreams to me if just because it was so cheesy and romantic and I loved every minute of it.  But Burke wasn’t the only one that Michael spent time with and he had a large group of friends that he would visit from time to time.  I however was stuck with just my one friend.  Abigail and I had met in first grade and while it was a bit rocky at first we had become good friends.  Strange things tended to happen around the two of us and now that I knew what was causing those strange things I was certain that Abigail was a witch.  Michael was less certain but Papa wouldn’t deny it so I felt vindicated.  In two years Abigail would be on the train to Hogwarts with me.

With two days left before school Michael had decided to spend the day with Burke.  He hadn’t told him that he was heading off to a boarding school and I was worried that it wouldn't’ go well when he did.  Not wanting to be there for that explosion I had opted to spend the day with Abigail.  She lived  just a few blocks away and while no one would let me walk that distance alone Michael was more than happy to do it most days.  Today however I had to wait for Mrs. Richards to collect me.  Mrs. Richards was a stay at home mom and always had the free time to come pick me up when Michael wouldn’t or couldn’t drop me off.

There was a knock at the door which could only have been Abigail.  She had this special way of knocking on things that I would recognize anywhere.  It was three light taps followed by a stronger bap and then one more tap.  I rushed to the door and opened it.  Abigail’s smiling face was there to greet me.  I grabbed my bag and Violin and we headed out.  Our house wasn’t all that great for entertaining guests for one reason.  The upstairs neighbors were not the nicest people in the world and anytime Michael or more frequently I got to noisy they would come down and yell at us or Dad and Pa for longer than seemed necessary.  So with this in mind we were to spend the day at Abigail’s house.

Abigail had bright blonde hair and blue eyes to match.  Her light skin would burn easy in the summer sun and she had large amounts of freckles all over her face and shoulders.  To prevent this she would often wear longer sleeved tops and often dresses to help keep cool despite the sleeves.  That and she almost never went out without her large floppy brimmed hat.  Mrs. Richards looked much the same as Abigail though with darker hair,l and had a similar fashion sense as she did.  Despite their more limited wardrobe they always looked stunning.

“So what is the plan for today?” I asked as we worked our way out of the apartment complex.

“Well we are going to play house and then you are going to give a performance at the teddy bear amphitheater,” said Abigail.  She liked to have things planned out even if they never went the way she had wanted them too.  Something always came up.  “Oh and for lunch Mama is going to make grilled cheese.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said.

It didn’t take too long to make it to Abigail’s apartment complex and when there the two of us shot up the stairs.  When we were safely in Abigail’s room our fun begin.  We did in fact start with house.   The first few times we had played Abigail had always insisted that I play the dad but that wasn’t much fun for me and soon we had reversed roles.  Abigail would play the dad or sometimes a second mom while I always played the mom.  We had fourteen children together, sure they were just baby dolls and teddy bears but each of them had their own story and stuff to do.  It was a bit fanciful the things our ‘children’ got into but it was for those moments that I felt most alright with the world.  I don't’ know if it was just playing pretend like Michael had told me it was or if my classmates were right and I was some sort of freak.  Still I did my best to not let those thoughts creep into our play time.

After what seemed like only an hour at most but was more like three, Mrs. Richards called us to the kitchen for lunch.  It was nothing special but I did love grilled cheese sandwiches.  I wasn’t certain if you could make them more special than a regular one but they were plenty good enough.  That and Mrs. Richards never burnt them.

“More house or is it time for a performance at the Teddy Bear amphitheater?” I asked when Abigail and I were back in her room.  “Or something else?”

“Is something the matter?” asked Abigail.  She had flopped down on her bed and I knew I was expected to sit down next to her.

“I don’t know what you mean.”  I said.  “Everything is fine.”

“Fine? You know you are a bad lier right?” asked Abigail.  “Come on what is bothering you?  You have been a bit off today.”

“I don't’ know,” I said.  “I guess I am dreading September.  Michael is going off to a boarding school and that means I will be alone and that scares me.”

“I’ll be here,” said Abigail.  “But Michael going away must be hard.  We will just have to hang out more after school.  We are in the same class this year so things should be better than last year.”

“Yeah,” I said.  “In two years I am going to go to the same school.”

Abigail froze up at my words.  Lost in thought a tear ran down her cheek.  I didn’t want to crush her like Michael was probably doing to Burke right now.  Abigail was very important to me but Papa had made us promise to not tell any of our muggle friends about magic but I wanted to so badly for Abigail.  It just felt so wrong to leave her out of this.

“So you are going to leave me too?” asked Abigail.  I could tell it wasn’t really a question that was looking to be answered and I just stayed quiet for a bit.  It was all the answer that she needed.  One tear turned into many, and soon Abigail was sobbing.

A drop of wet landed on my arm but I barely registered it.  It wasn’t until the fourth time that I figured out something was amiss.  I looked up and the ceiling was replaced by a thick looking layer of clouds.  For a moment I wondered what had happened to the roof of the apartment building but there were six more levels above Abigail’s apartment. And there was no way that would disappear without some noise.  The rain started to fall in buckets and I was nearly instantly drenched.  I had only one explanation.  Magic.  Not wanting to stay in the rain, I jumped to my feet dragging Abigail with me to the door.  It would not budge.  The handle wouldn’t even twist.  I tried to push it open to no avail. The rain intensified and soon the room had an inch of water all over it and I could only guess how much had spilt out into the rest of the house.  A bolt of lightning shot through the air and barely missed my head as it struck the shelf next to me.  The shelf smoldered but did not light.

Mrs. Richards started banging on the door and she shouted, “Abigail, Blake what in the name of all that is holly is going on in there?  Why is there water pouring out of your bedroom?  Open the door now.”

“I can’t,” I shouted back.  “The door is stuck or something.”

Another bolt of lightning exploded the lamp near Abigail’s bed.  Abigail seemed still out of it as the storm raged around us.  I was starting to get really worried about the whole event.  It seemed that the storm was feeding off of Abigail’s distress which was in turn furthering her distress.  I needed to break the cycle before we got hurt.

“What was that noise?  Blake tell me what is going on?” asked Mrs. Richards.  The storm had picked up to the point it was hard to hear her shouting on the other side of the door.  “Back up I am breaking the door down.”

There was a loud thud as the door shook violently.  Another bolt of lightning cracked across the room.  There was two more hits before the door broke open enough that Mrs. Richards could see in.  She seemed only the slightest surprised by the storm in the room. Once the door was breached it took Mrs. Richards only a few moments to rip the rest of it out of the way allowing Abigail and I to escape.  Again I had to drag Abigail from the room.  I wasn’t certain anymore as to how aware she was.  Mrs. Richards started to shake Abigail until she came out of it.  The storm slowly was following us into the hallway.

“Abigail,” said Mrs. Richards loudly.  “Everything is fine.  Mommy is right here.  Everything is fine.  Take a deep breathe.”

Mrs. Richards words worked in helping Abigail calm down.  It took a bit but the storm dissipated from the house.  The water however did not disappear and Abigail’s room was mostly ruined.  This was the very thing Papa had warned Michael and I from doing.  Obvious magic where a muggle would notice it.  Images of Abigail being taken away by wizards in chains for this filled my head.  I couldn’t control my breathing as my heart sped away.

Abigail pulled me into a hug which at first I fought against.  I needed to run away I needed to hide.  But her arms wouldn’t let me.  Despite the growing panic that filled me her arms kept it contained more manageable.  I finally calmed down enough to come back to the problem at hand.

“Let's go have some cocoa while we calm down,” said Mrs. Richards.  “We are going to need to talk.”

Nothing was said till each of us had a steaming cup in our hands.  I didn’t want to be the first to break the silence, so I waited for one of the other two to talk.  It seemed to be a battle of wills as none of us wanted to be the first to break.

"I..." said Mrs. richards.  "Uh, Blake you can't tell anyone about this.  There could be trouble and if you want to keep your memory of this intact then you have to promise to not tell anyone.  Promise?"

"I know magic is a secret, but how do you know?" I asked.

Confusion masked Abigail's face.  She kept looking back and forth between her mother and myself as if we were some wort of aliens.  There wasn't fear in her eyes but I could tell it was too much for her.  She said, "Wait that was magic?  How? Why do you both know about this?"

"You know when I said that my parents and I didn't talk anymore?" asked Mrs. Richards.  "That is because they are mages.  Not stage magicians but magic like you performed in your room.  I was born without magic and they decided it was a better life for me to live among muggles where I would be normal instead of amongst the magical community where I would be an outcast.  Leaving my family wasn’t the easiest but I found your father and have been very happy with my lot in life.  Your grandparents are going to be quite proud of you."

Mrs. Richards voice had grown sour there for a moment with the last of her words.  There was something that I couldn’t place about her.  But in a moment after speaking that sense of that something was off left Mrs. RIchards.

"Okay but what about you, Blake?" asked Abigail.  "How do you know about..magic?"

"Um don't tell Michael yet cause he would probably get mad if he knows that I told you, but Michael and I are both wizards,"  I said.

"Are your fathers as well?" asked Mrs. Richards.

"No but Papa is.  He came to tell us on Michael's birthday this last year," I said.  "But this means that Abigail will be going to Hogwarts too won't it."

“Maybe," said Mrs. Richards.  "We need to keep this a secret from your dad, Aby.  Don't want to worry him."

"How?"  asked Abigail.  "My door is broken and my room is a mess."

“Blake, your pet bird, does it happen to be an owl?” asked Mrs. Richards.  I had made Abigail promise to not tell anyone that I had an owl as a pet.  I figured if Abigail just said I had a bird, no one would ask further.

“Yes.  MIchael and I got one each near Christmas so we could talk to each other when he goes off to Hogwarts.  Papa thought it was a great idea,” I said.  “We could send a letter to Papa.  I know my owl knows where to find him.  Though it usually takes Diana almost a day to get back though.”

“That is a bit far.  Who is your Papa?” asked Mrs. Richards.

“Albus Dumbledore,” I said.

“Wha...The head of Hogwarts...is your grandfather...how?” asked Mrs. Richards.

“No no no,” said Abigail.  “We go get Diana and maybe Mercury and then we talk.”

“Oh yes of course,” said Mrs. Richards.  “Just a bit nervous.  My daughter a witch.  I hoped this wouldn’t have happened but it is what it is.  Well we had best be off so that your grandparents will have the time to come.  Probably only my mother.  Your grandfather tends to be busy this time of year.”

“Is he a teacher at Hogwarts?” I asked.

“No he just makes most of the wands for the witches and wizards of england,” said Mrs. Richards.  “With school starting he tends to be really busy right now.  Or well he used to be it is has been a long time since we talked.”

“Well let’s go fix that,” I said.  The three of us headed for the door when I realized a bit of a problem.  I was still soaked and I was certain that Abigail was too.  It wasn’t too cold out but it wouldn’t due to go out like this.  “Um was all of Abigail’s clothes in her room?  I’m still soaked and it is cold out there.”

“Oh crap,” said Mrs. Richards.  “I have a load of clothes in the drier.  Those would work.  Though Blake are you alright with wearing Abigail’s clothes?”

“I don't mind,” I said.  I stole a glance at Abigail.  This was not the first time I had worn her clothes.  The two of us were really close in size and sometimes when playing house I would dress up for the part.  Abigail didn’t mind but the both of us had decided it was best to not tell anyone else.  I hadn’t even told Michael.

“Sorry about this,” said Mrs. Richards.  “But it is very brave of you to wear girls clothes.”

After sorting through the set of laundry I was given a pair of capri pants and a t-shirt that had a cat picture on it.  They were not my first choice in what to wear as Abigail was forced to wear a dress and I would have liked that but the clothes fit well enough even if they were a bit big for me.  With that sorted out we headed out.

I felt free during our walk back to my house in a way that I couldn’t really describe.  It was a strange feeling as if something had been lifted off of me. I relished this but didn't really dwell on it as any time I did I ended up depressed for hours.

Diana was excited to see me when we got into the house.  Papa had paid our pet deposit and no one had yet complained about our two owls.  They were always pretty quiet and based on how many small critters they brought home to eat it must have been good effect of keeping the vermin in control. I give Diana lots of love when I opened her cage.  She was much more loving than Mercury and would let me pet her for a good while before she had enough.

“Do you think Michael will mind if we send Mercury off to your papa?” asked Abigail.  “Diana is a lot more impressive and I want to make a good impression on mom’s parents.”

“He won’t mind.  Besides Papa might come to visit which I am sure that Michael will be happy with.  I have some paper here why don’t we just send them out now,” i said.  I pulled out some scrap paper and started to write a long winded explanation of what was going on.

Mrs. Richards had written a different letter.  It was much shorter.  I could tell by the way her hands were shaking that she was quite nervous  Afterwards she handed me the letter and I tied it to Mercury’s leg.  I finished my letter before bringing both owls out and giving them instructions on who to find.  I was certain that Mercury would find Papa but I was always a bit worried that Diana wouldn’t find someone new when I sent them a letter.  To be fair I had only sent an owl to Papa and Professor Snape.  Professor Snape never returned my letter so I had been worried that he hadn’t got the letter.  Hopefully this Mrs. Ollivander would respond.

“We should head back to the house right away,” said Mrs. Richards.  “I doubt it will take your owl long to find my mother.  She only lives across town.  Why don’t you get changed with a fresh set of clothes and then we can leave?”

A few minutes later and we were out the door.  There was a sense of excitement in the air and a hint of dread with it.  None of us spoke the entire trip back to Abigail’s house.  There wasn’t much to keep my attention away from the coming meeting.  If it was the same person as I thought, I found it weird that I had met Abigail’s grandfather before her.

We had barely made it into their apartment before there was a knock at the door.  Mrs. Richards answered it to reveal a elderly woman who was a bit shorter than Mrs. Richards.  She had a kind face and rosy cheeks.  In many ways she reminded me of Mrs. Smith.  It was the way her eyes had a hint of sadness buried under them.  Her dress though was more of a robe and was quite long and of emerald green color.  There was an air of an era long since past with her clothes.

“Oh my little Susie,” said the older woman, who must have been Mrs. Ollivander.  “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Mother,” said Mrs. Richards.  There was something in her voice though that said otherwise.  “Come in please.  I want you to met your granddaughter, Abigail.”

“Hello my dear,” said Mrs. Ollivander.  “I am so sorry that this is our first meeting.  Your mom says that you have performed some magic that needs cleaning up.”

“Yeah she summoned a thunderstorm in her bedroom,” I exclaimed.  “I didn’t know magic was so awesome as that.  Though it was really scary.”

“And who are you?” asked Mrs. Ollivander.  “Susan, you know there is a statue of secrecy.  Muggles aren’t to know of magic.”

“Blake isn’t a muggle,” said Mrs. Richards.  Again her voice was sharper than it seemed necessary.  “His brother is attending Hogwarts this year and his grandfather is a wizard.”

“Well let's make your room right then, Abigail and then we can have a nice long talk,” said Mrs. Ollivander.  “It is nice to met you Blake.  Your brother has probably met my husband then.”

“Yeah I did too,” I said.  “I went with to Diagon Alley.”

Mrs. Richards led the four of us to Abigail’s room.  There was still a large amount of water stuck in the room and in many ways the room looked worse than when we had left it.  With a flick of her wand and said, “Evanaco Aquas”

The now inch of water that reminded in the room just vanished into thin air.  Everything even looked dry.  Still some of the objects were burn or in the case of the book case next to the door blown up.  The door was in multiple pieces still.

Mrs. Ollivander walked through the room waving her wand at things that were broken, and saying, “Reparo.”

Each thing flew back together or had the singe marks disappear.  Soon Abigail’s room was back to normal.  I ran over to my violin case that I had completely forgot about.  Thankfully the case was waterproof so there was no damage.  I flipped through it just in case and found everything to be fine.

“There right as rain, “ said Mrs. Ollivander.  “Susie, mind if we have some tea?  Conversations can dry the throat so.”

“Of course Mother,” said Mrs. Richards with a faked grin.  It was odd seeing her act this way.  “Unless it has changed I have your favorite.”

“Same as it always been,” said Mrs. Ollivander.  “Dears why don’t we go sit in the living room while your mother prepares the tea.  I am sure you have lots of questions.  I’m sure I do.”

Soon enough we were sitting.  Mrs. Ollivander mostly spent the first bit just asking some simple questions of Abigail.  Things like favorite color or how old she was.  It seemed so mundane.  I just fiddled with my violin books.  I had read them from front to back six times over but it kept my hands busy.  I wanted to make a good impression on Mrs. Ollivander if just so as to make Abigail look better.  I wasn’t really doing her any favors at the moment though as I was appearing a bit too disinterested in the conversation.  I tried to tune back in when Mrs. Richards came and joined us with a tray of tea.  The smell of orange citrus black tea filled the room and I had a better opinion of Mrs. Ollivander already.

“Do you play an instrument as well, Abigail?” asked Mrs. Ollivander.  Her gaze though was stuck on my actions.  “It is a bit of a tradition for witches and wizards to learn an instrument.”

“No,” said Abigail.  “I like to sing though but I am not very good at it.”

“You’re better than I am,” I interjected.  Sometimes Abigail would sing along with my violin.  There weren’t really words to the songs in my book but she would just make them up as we went.  “Besides I practice a lot more with my violin than you do with singing.  If you practiced as much as I do you would probably be better than I am.”

“Do you two go to muggle school together?” asked Mrs. Ollivander.

“Yeah,” said Abigail.  “Blake is my best friend.  We didn’t really have any other friends before we met and he is sort of my only friend now.  But that is fine.  Blake gets me.”

“That is lovely,” said Mrs. Ollivander.  “Magic sometimes works in unforeseen ways.  You two must have been destined to met.  You two will be in Hogwarts in a couple years.  It is good to have friends with you as you move to new things.  Oh and I am sure you will make plenty more friends when you get to Hogwarts.”

“Why is today the first day I have met you?” asked Abigail.  “You seem really nice but I feel like someone is hiding something.”

“Smart girl,” said Mrs. Ollivander.  “Susie, do you want to explain or should i?”

“You hadn’t met Mother before because I walked away from that world.  I wanted to feel normal.  I don’t think you can understand what it is like growing up in a magical family when you don’t have magic yourself,” said Mrs. Richards angrily..  “Most families suggest that squibs join the muggle world.  That it is easier for them and it is.  So much.  I hadn’t talked to Mother in years before because it was easier to pretend that magic didn’t exist.  Which meant avoiding your grandmother.  I can’t pretend that I am happy to be dragged back into that again.”

“What do you mean?” asked Abigail.

“I left that world behind and I won't go back,” said Mrs. Richards.  There was venom in her voice.  “I don’t belong in that world and honestly the three of you don’t belong in my world.”

“You can’t be seriously thinking that,” said Mrs. Ollivander.  “She is your daughter.”

“So.  I was yours and you did everything you could to get me to leave.  Did your best to not let anyone know about me,” shouted Mrs. Richards.  “I won’t be reminded of what I was supposed to be every day from here till when I die.  Abigail can learn to be normal or she can leave with you.”

“Do you have any idea what suppressing one's magic like that does?”  shouted Mrs. Ollivander.  “It builds up and given enough time it will turn a person into a monster.  It kills them.  I’ll not stand by as you try to do that to your daughter.  All because you are mad at me.”

Abigail had started to sob quietly and I did my best to comfort her.  I could feel my own panic rising as the two women argued.  Their shouting had gotten loud enough that surely the neighbors could hear.  I picked up my case and started to drag Abigail away.  Staying here wasn’t going to fix anything.  I needed to be somewhere safe, somewhere with less yelling.  We could go home.  We would be safe until Papa came and made all this better.  He could fix this.  Abigail just followed me as we headed to the door.

The trip home was a blur to me and all I could focus on was Abigail sobbing behind me.  I didn’t even blink as the door opened of its own accord as we came to my home.  We were safe here.  In the quiet with the only noise being Abigail’s continued sobbing.  No longer in flight mode my panic boiled over and I melted into the floor.

Abigail was the first to regain her composure.  She joined me on the floor laying herself ontop of me.  The pressure was extremely helpful in getting me to calm down.  Soon her efforts paid off though neither of us were all that in the mood to really do anything.  Instead we just laid on the couch in a semi-vegetative state.

A knock on the door interrupted our silence.  Reluctantly I pulled a chair from our table over to the door and looked through the peephole.  Mrs. Ollivander was waiting outside of the door but as far as I could tell she was alone.  I wasn’t certain what to do.  Only adults were supposed to open the door but I knew I had to open it.  I just wished that Papa or Michael were here.  They would know if it was alright to break the rule and let Mrs. Ollivander into the house.

“Abigail, your grandmother is outside.  Do I let her in?” I shouted.

“Is she alone?” asked Abigail.  “If yes then yes.  I don’t want to see both of them at once again.”

Pushing the chair to the side I unlocked the door I didn’t remember locking and opened the door half way.  Mrs. Ollivander looked like she had been just about to knock again.  She smiled at me though I kept my guard up.  I didn’t need more panic episodes today.

“I’m sorry you two had to watch that,” said Mrs. Ollivander.  “May I come in, please?”

“No shouting please,” I said but stepped aside for her to come in.  After she had I locked the door up again.  “Sorry we don’t have as much fancy stuff here.  Also I can’t make tea because I am not allowed to use the stovetop.”

“Oh I think I have had my fill of tea honestly,” said Mrs. Ollivander.  “Things have boiled over enough today as it is.  Hello, Abigail.  I’m so very sorry for that display earlier.”

“Are you here to take me away?” asked Abigail.  “Mommy doesn’t love me so what does it matter.”

“Oh honey, don’t say that.  I’m sure that your mother loves you.  She just has some issues that she needs to work on, and is refusing to do so,” said Mrs. Ollivander.  “But that means that she is being a bit of a stick in the mud on this.”

“So she doesn’t want me to come home,” asked Abigail.  She started to sob again and this time I could see the magic that must have been trailing us all the way here.  Another storm started to brew overhead.  “Mommy doesn’t love me.”

Mrs. Ollivander pulled out her wand and with a flick of her wrist the cloud vanished.  I pulled Abigail into a tight hug.  Today had not gone as planned at all.  I didn’t know how to fix this or even if it could be fixed.  I couldn’t help it and I started to sob too.  I was feeding of Abigail’s sorrow and I knew it.  It didn’t stop the flow of tears.

The door opened once more and I nearly jumped out of Abigail’s arms.  Michael walked into the room.  I was in trouble and I started to panic.  Michael would yell at me for letting her into the house.  Michael quicker than I had thought he ever would be able to pulled his wand out of his bag.  He pointed it at Mrs. Ollivander.

“Who are you?  What are you doing in our house?” asked Michael.  “If you hurt them, so help me.”

“Easy there,” said Mrs. Ollivander.  “I mean no harm to Abigail and Blake.  I’m Abigail’s grandmother.”

Michael turned to look at me but his wand didn’t lower.  There was a part of me that thought he was so awesome, then there was the part of me that knew he had not mastered any spell that would be an attack.  The much larger part was worried that I was about to get into trouble with Michael.  I nodded to him though as he was looking for my acceptance of Mrs. Ollivander.  He lowered his wand but didn’t put it away.

“Sorry,” said Michael.  “So who wants to explain what is going on here?  Blake you were supposed to be at Abigail’s till I came to pick you up.”

“Some stuff happened,” I said.  “So it turns out that Abigail is a witch and this is Mrs. Ollivander, Abigail’s grandmother, who is also a witch.  I don’t want to talk about what happened in the last while.  I sent a letter to Papa with Mercury.”

“Sorry to intrude into your house,” said Mrs. Ollivander.  “Blake and Abigail, sort of disappeared on us.  Some mean words were thrown around between myself and Abigail’s mom.  I’m sorry to drag your family into mine’s squabble.”

“Okay,” said Michael.  “Blake can I talk to you for a second? Alone?”

I nodded and we went into our shared room.  Michael looked more than a bit worried.  A few times he seemed about to speak but then didn’t.  The yelling that I was expecting never came.  It wasn’t like he really ever did yell at me.  At least not more than for a single moment.  I wish I could shut out the worries from my head that swam around whenever anything went out of hand.  I couldn’t keep it all in and tears ran down my face.  It had been much too much today.

“Hey, everything is going to be okay,” said Michael.  “Clearly you’ve had a hard day but don’t worry.  Everything is going to be fine now.  Now do I need to ask that lady to go away?  Even if just for a bit while you and Abigail calm down for a bit?”

“I..” I started but the words were getting stuck in my throat.  Even with his reassurances I  kept seeing him yell at me or Mrs. Ollivander yelling.  Trembles ran through me and I couldn’t see for the thoughts in my head.  “I..I..I..”

“Okay,” said Michael in a soft tone.  “Here just lie down for a bit okay.  I’m going to go deal with this and then we are just going to hang out till you feel better okay.”

He led me to my bed and tucked me under my weighted blanket.  There was something about it that helped calm me like a firm hug.  Still I wasn’t going to want to come back out from under this for a while still.  I buried my head under the blankets and ignored the world as Michael put on some music.

Before too long Abigail walked into the room and climbed under the blanket to sit with me.  I liked having her warmth and a hug plus my blanket was best.  Neither of us talked.  Abigail was much better at talking after stressful days than I was but she wasn’t one to force it.  Nor did she typically care to.  Instead we just sat there listening to vivaldi and the sound of the others breath.  But despite the shaking having left my body, my mind was still racing.  I couldn’t help but dwell on the events of today.  Did this mean I was losing Abigail too?  That I would be alone at school as Abigail went to live with her Grandmother’s house.  Mrs. Richards never changed her mind about things and thinking on it I wasn’t certain she ever really liked me all that much.  I was Abigail’s only friend and she mine so she had put up with my weirdness.  I wonder if she had always known that Abigail was different.  Maybe not magical but at third grade one didn’t often have only one friend.  Or constantly having letters sent home about how you don’t fit in at school.  How you are not right and might need something special for school.  Abigail had to go to a doctor about something but nothing had come of it.  The two of us were still stuck in the same class we had always been in.

My panic had subsided but that didn’t make me want to leave my safe space.  I didn’t want to deal with any of today anymore.  I didn’t want to deal with what was coming.  I would be missing both Abigail and Michael in just a few days and life would be very lonely.  I shuddered to think about how Burke was taking this news or for that matter whether or not he would be taking out his loneliness on me in Michael’s absence.  But more than that I was just felt lost anymore.  Half of the pillar’s in my life were being taken away from me and I didn’t know how I was going to manage.

Pa came into the room and the two of us detangled from the blanket. Abigail’s vacant face and Pa’s worry said more than words ever would have.  There was a moment of silence as Pa came to sit on the bed with us.  Abigail clamped onto me from behind.  Her grip was strong and tight as if Pa had come to take me away.  She was the one who was going to be taken away.

“Hard day huh,” said Pa.  “I know things are a lot confusing right now.  For both of you.  But it will get better.  Abigail, your grandmother is going to come pick you up tomorrow and take you to her house.  But for tonight, it is just you and our family.  After that I’ll make sure that Blake and you get plenty of time together.”

“I’ll buy you an owl so we can write everyday,” I said.  “Can we go to Diagon Alley tomorrow?  So I can get Abigail an owl?”

“We will talk to Mrs Ollivander when she comes to collect Abigail tomorrow,” said Pa.  “I want to visit this place at least once so I know where I can find you when you go to visit on the weekends.  Besides seems like it would be quite the exciting place from what you and Michael have said.”

“Yeah,” I said.  “It isn’t that far from here.  Just maybe an hour by the underground.  Maybe you can still go to the same school.”

“We will worry about all of that tomorrow,” said Pa.  “For now, let's just try to make the most of tonight.  How does pizza sound for dinner?”

“Really,” I asked.  We didn’t get pizza too often as it was a bit expensive but I did love it.  “Can we get one with pineapple on it.”

“Is that fine with you, Abigail?” asked Pa.  Abigail nodded.  She was in a nonverbal mode and I could see that there wasn’t much we could do to help her out of that.  A quiet night would help though, that and pizza.  “One pineapple and cheese pizza coming up.”

The rest of the evening went pleasantly.  I practiced on my violin while Abigail watched till the pizza arrived and by the time our bellies were full sleep began to worm its way into my head.  Any other day I might have fought against it.  Just to spend more time with Abigail but the day had been far too demanding of me to allow for any such resistance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Try two on writing this note...hurray me...I don't know how I am going to fit this in more blatantly in the story but Blake is autistic and while I am not one hundred precent certain on Abigail she is probably as well or at least has other neurodivergences. As I was born the year this chapter takes place, 1989, it is one of those hard for me to wrap my head around for how well informed school systems would be in London at the time. Also a surprisingly hard thing to research, or as I have suspected for a while now, I might suck at research. Either way I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Stay tuned for more to come as soon as I write it. so like probably in 5 to 7 days.
> 
> oh and I am new to AO3, are chapter summaries a thing people expect? I suck at blurbs so yeah.


	4. Slipping out of Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So forwarning there is a bit of an injury in this chapter that is not super detailed but still enough that it migh be off putting to some. Hence the warning. Oh and here is another wall of text. the chapters keep getting bigger. I split what was to be chapter 4 into two because how how long it was looking to be. I figure any chapter over 12k word count is probably too much but eh.

I woke due to nightmares twice that night though thankfully I didn’t wake anyone else with them. Each time I could tell that Abigail was having ones too. She would mumble in her sleep when she was having bad dreams. Thankfully it was fairly easy to make it back to sleep after each time. When I came to for the third time that night there was the faintest hints of light coming from the window. Dawn was nearly upon us and there was no more sleeping for me.

I stumbled out into the living room doing my best to not disturb either Michael or Abigail. The early mornings tended to be my reprieve from the world. The only other person who tended to be up as early as me was Pa. He worked early in the day and had to commute somewhere over an hour to get to work. So my morning ritual included having tea with him while he prepared for work and I waited for the others to wake. As usual I had woke before Pa had though not by much.

“Didn’t sleep well, kiddo?” asked Pa as he walked into the room from his and Dad’s bedroom. “Those are some serious bags under your eyes.”

“Nightmares,” I said. We were both being relatively quiet as we spoke. “Do you have to work today?”

“Nah I requested today and tomorrow off,” said Pa. “Dad did too. So we can spend all day together. Sorry we haven’t been able to do that much this summer.”

“I understand,” I said. I wasn’t happy about it but it was what needed to be done. We were tight with money and Pa and Dad had refused to let me help them. It felt so wrong having a vault filled nearly to the brim with gold and not being able to help family with it.

“So why don’t you send a letter to Mrs Ollivander asking if she minds if we bring Abigail to her, that way the five of us can go to this alley together,” said Pa.

I scribbled out a note on a piece of paper and went to retrieve Diana. Mercury had returned at some point in the night and he was sleeping in his open cage. We barely locked them up. If ever. Mercury had a note attached to his leg that must have been from Papa. I untied it and tied my new letter to Diana. She was less than happy about being woken but only gave me a slight nip for it. She was lazily off in a matter of moments after I told her who to send the letter to.

Pa was busy with a pot of tea when I returned to living room. I needed something strong already. The right amount of tea would calm me too much and I would get all jittery and anxious too little and it would do nothing. Today was a heavy tea day I could feel already.

Papa’s letter read:

Dear Blake,  
Thank you for writing me about such an event. I’m sure that was both exciting and frightening at one moment. Alas I am tied to my work at the moment, and can not come to help out. This time of year is particularly busy and I have a new teacher I need to orient to school life before the term begins. The other teachers think there is a curse on the position and at this point I am beginning to agree.

I look forward to seeing Michael in but a few days. I am again sorry that I must separate the two of you boys like this but soon enough you will follow in his footsteps and come to Hogwarts. I know that to a young boy like yourself that two years can seem like such a long time but I assure you it will be gone before you know it. Still I am certain that my words are falling on deaf ears for this topic.

I checked and I can confirm that your friend, Abigail, is in fact on our lists. I am sure she will be relieved to know that she will be attending school with you at the same year. Having a friend to come with you is such a blessing.

Again I wish to express my apologies that I was of no help in your crisis but I hope that all is well between your friend and her family. Write if you need anything else and even if you don’t I would love to hear from you. When Michael is here if you want Diana will be able to deliver us both letters at the same time.

WIth love,

Papa

At least he wrote is all I could think. I wasn’t in denial that Michael was leaving but I didn’t want to dwell on it all the same. It was still too painful. I put the letter away in our cabinet with the rest of Papa’s letters. I had saved them. They seemed to precious to throw out.

With the water for the tea on the stove, Pa had ran down stairs to collect the morning paper. He liked to read it when given the chance though that was not most mornings. Dad wouldn’t let him hold on to more than a day or two at a time so after that he had to pass them on to Mrs Smith who was the person who had the subscription. Mrs Smith didn’t mind getting a few papers here or there a few days late. Besides for the most part Pa only grabbed them on his days off and would have them to her shortly after breakfast.

Nothing but the sound of cups hitting the table and Pa’s murmurs about something political that I didn’t understand filled my morning. I had two cups of breakfast tea before Michael came stumbling out of our room. He was not as much of a morning person as I was and it took him at least a full cup of tea before he felt up and ready. Today was no exception. Some time later after Michael had downed half of his steaming cup of tea, Abigail came out to join us at the table.

“Good morning,” said Pa. There was a hint of worry and lots of love in his voice. Pa was always ready to make anybody feel like they were important to him. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Not really,” said Abigail. Her voice trembled and tears were forming in her eyes. “Had bad dreams.”

“I’m sorry about that,” said Pa. “I know that things are a bit hard right now but it will get better. When I was a bit older than Michael is now, my parents kicked me out. They didn’t like that I was gay and I wouldn’t go back into the closet for them. I won’t say that it didn’t hurt but in a strange way things got better after that. I wouldn’t have my family now if it weren’t for that. Just remember that you are a very special young girl and your magic only makes you more special not less.”

“Yeah,” said Abigail. Pa’s words seemed to have had no effect on her and I didn’t blame her. “Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. Not now and not ever do you need to apologize for being yourself,” said Pa fervently. “But as I know how I felt when I had to face a similar situation why don’t we instead look towards what fun we can get up to today?”

His words finally seemed to have reached Abigail and she looked excited for a day of merriment. I couldn’t wait to show her what exciting things waited for us at Diagon Alley. I was going to treat her to whatever she wanted today. That is of course if Mrs Ollivander was fine with us taking her to Diagon Alley ourselves.

As if I had summoned her with my thoughts, Diana flew into the room through my bedroom. She had a neatly rolled scroll in her claws and had a satisfied look to her face, which she wore every time she returned from a delivery. Owls were a lot more expresive with their eyes than I had expected and DIana was no exception. Diana landed on the back of my chair and presented one of her feet with the scroll.

It was from Mrs Ollivander and indicated that it would be lovely for us to bring Abigail to her. She gave the adress of the Leaky Cauldron and instructions on how to get into Diagon Alley. That was new information for me though I didn’t rightly know how to get to the tavern that held the entrance. Pa though when I showed him the letter seemed to know just where that was.

Pa sent us off to get dressed while he started breakfast. Abigail borrowed some of my clothes. We had swapped enough to know that only my newer clothes would fit her as Dad always bought slightly too big clothes for us. As the morning progressed I couldn’t help but watch as my emotions started to grow out of hand. Excitement and nervousness loved to play off one another and before I sat back down for breakfast I was already jittery.

“The first thing I am going to learn at school is a way to stop your nightmares,” announced Michael. “Are you certain going shopping is something you can handle today?”

Michael was the best at reading me. Abigail was a close second but she often would get caught up in my emotions without fully realizing she was. I didn’t much like it sometimes but Michael had a tendency to be over protective on days like this. To his credit he could tell when I was going to have a bad day in ways that I normally couldn’t.

“I’ll be fine,” I said. “It wasn’t that bad last time.”

“I am pretty certain today is going to be much busier,” said Michael. “I want you both to tell me when things are even starting to get to be annoying. I want today to be happy for all of us. Including you two.”

Both Abigail and I nodded our understanding. Today was to be our best attempt at having a good day, and the best days were when we didn't push ourselves too much. Too many good days had been ruined that way. Yesterday’s shadow hadn’t lifted and as such the day had much against it as it.

Dad stumbled into the room. He wasn’t really awake yet as he hadn’t had his coffee. He was the only one in the house who drank the stuff but he more than made up for the rest of us. I wasn’t allowed to have any coffee and Michael wouldn’t drink it out of solidarity. Pa on the other hand would only drink coffee on days that he needed energy the most. Today was not one of those days for Pa.

“Good morning,” said Pa. His voice had a sort of charm to it when he wished Dad good morning. It was the same charm to it that would come out when ever he told someone of his love for them. “I hope that at least one of us slept well last night?”

“Coffee,” groaned Dad. There was a playfulness hidden in his voice. “Coffee first then I can tell you how well I slept. After all never really know till then.”

“You’re an adict,” said Pa. “Still you are my addict.”

“Damn straight,” said Dad.

“Well not all that straight through,” Pa joked.

By the time Dad had retrieved his cup of morning joe, the food was ready and the two started to dish us. Our table wasn’t really meant for more than four at a time so Dad and Pa ate in the kitchen after bring us food. Scramble and bacon with a bit of toast was just what the doctor had ordered and I was feeling much better.

“So what’s the plan?” asked Dad. He and Pa were quick eaters and came to stand near the three of us at the table. “We have to be at king station tomorrow at nine right? But till then we should do something special.”

“We are going to go to that wizarding shopping center that Michael and Blake keep going on about,” said Pa. “We’ve got to deliver the fair princess, Abigail, slayer of loneliness to her Grandmother. Though not before we get a feel for her Gran.”

“Yeah,” said Michael. There was a grimness to his voice that I didn’t often hear. It only ever came out when Michael was about to teach someone a lesson about picking on his brother. It was a voice that had come to mean scary things to many in our elementary school. It was often accompanied by a bit of magic. Though that had only happened before Michael got his wand. He hadn’t caused anything unusual in a while. “We got to get Abigail an owl. So she can keep in touch with Blake. You had better.”

“I will,” said Abigail. She was clearly offended by the thought that she wouldn’t keep in touch as if such a thought was well unthinkable. It was to me. If I had to swim to those rowdy colonies we had learned about in school as of recent to be with Abigail, I would do so in a heartbeat. Not that I knew how to swim.

“Now Michael,” scolded Pa. “We don’t threaten your brother’s friends. No matter what sort of trouble she would bring upon herself if she were to avoid him after this.”

“Pa, Michael,” I stammered. “Don’t scare her or she really won’t want to talk to me. I think I might just die if that were to happen.”

“He isn’t joking,” warned Michael in a near whisper to Abigail. “I’m sure that you two will be married well before I ever am.”

Abigail blushed at that and avoided my eyes. I was more than willing to marry her but maybe later when I could give her the wedding she deserved. The wedding that I wanted. I had images of it. Abigail wore this giant poofy dress and we were in a forest where much of those in attendance were not people but animals. Many were my own dolls turned real. Mr Grins was proceeding the event. Pa and Dad were crying to one side constantly spouting things about just how beautiful Abigail’s dress was or how happy they were. Michael stood to one side in a tux that played nicely to his dark skin. I could never see myself though in that fever dream of a future. It was a bit weird but I knew that things were going to be just like that.

“You don’t planing our wedding?” asked Abigail. “Just so you know you are the only boy I would ever mary. All other ones are icky.”

Everyone except myself and of course Abigail, laughed at that. There was no mirth in her eyes just a cool determination. I wonder if she had the same image as I did for our wedding. Not that I was going to ask right now with everyone else there.

“Well we had best head out then,” said Dad. “If we need to go get wedding invitations while we are out. Michael can you grab anything you think we might need?”

“Right away,” he said. Michael almost ran but mostly speed walked into our shared bedroom. Two minutes later he came back with a school back strung over his shoulder and a smile on his face. “Got your key, Blake. I don’t suppose you are going to let me pay for anything today.”

“Not unless Pa or Dad make me,” I said.

When we had come home with images of how to spend such a large amount of gold, Michael and I had a long fight about who was allowed to spend their money. We almost got in trouble for it till Pa figured out we were fighting over who got to buy the other gifts and who needed the funds more. I had won the argument by telling him a close approximation of how much more money I had to myself than the two of us shared. I was always good at such guesstimates and was at this point banned from any such event at school. I was always the closest. Still the school hadn’t caught on and stopped Abigail from using my guess.

“Really boys,” said Pa. “I thought we agreed you would split any money and to not go trying to out do one and another with fanciful gifts.”

“Yeah but I have to be the one to give Abigail the best gift today,” I said. “And Michael is going to school tomorrow so I have to make sure the both of them have something special to remember me by.”

“Yeah but you are going to be the one home alone,” Michael said. “I talked Burke into being nice to you while I am gone but honestly if any of us needs something to keep us feeling good it is you.”:

“You aren’t allowed to shower me in stuff, Blake,” said Abigail. “Mom…” Abigail grew quiet for a moment. “...Said that marriages are supposed to be equal so how am I supposed to return the gits. I don’t have any money.”

My eyes darted back and forth between Abigail and Michael. It wasn’t much fair when the two of them ganged up on me like this. Pa and Dad put a hand each on my shoulders. I could feel their silent words calming me.

“You three are children,” said Pa. “Leave all this money talk to us okay?”

“Okay,” the three of us said in unison. I was pretty certain that Michael and I would still be paying for everything. Michael had stole a glance at me that I knew meant he had our vault keys with him.

We gathered our jackets and Michael his backpack and we headed off to the underground entrance near the house. It was a pleasant walk though as it was a Thursday the underground was far too noisy and Dad handed me our discman. The headphones didn’t fit me right but it was better than having a panic attack on the crowded underground. Thankfully Dad’s device still had my favorite compact disc in it. I loved the soothing tones of Enya.

I barely noticed when we got off the train near the center of London. Downtown was always busier than I liked and I did my best to just focus on my music. Michael had my hand in his and Dad was close behind us with Pa leading the way. Abigail on the other hand seemed to thrive with all the sights and sounds of the city. She always perked up and had a smile on her face when we went any where busy. Well provided there wasn’t much shouting. I didn’t rightly understand how she could stand the dull roar of the city but she claimed it was calming.

We found the Leaky Cauldron easier than I had thought we would. There was something off about it as Pa nearly walked past it and almost everyone around us acted like the place didn’t exist. It had seen better days but I wasn’t certain if that was negligent or purposful. Still there was a special charm to its battered look. Like this had been here nearly as long as london had been here.

Inside there were a number of people all dressed in odd outfits. Most were nursing coffee mugs or a plate of scramble. A few paused to look up at us but none seemed to care except for the bartender. He was a squat man with a bit of a hump. If his eyes weren’t as kind as they were his overall appearance would have scared me.

“Can I help ya?” asked the bartender. “Here for something particular or just stumbled in?”

 

“We're here for dragon alley, or something,” Dad said. “The wizard shopping center thing. Sorry this is all new to us.”

“Ah,” said the bartender. He looked at Michael with a bit more joy in his eye. “So you must be attending Hogwarts this year. Yer gonna love it there. Word to the wise, today Diagon Alley is gonna be busy to all hell ‘n back. Next time you need to pick up your school supplies come a bit earlier and there won’t be such a crowd. Oh and come back for lunch if yer still here, it's on the house for first year muggle borns. Want to give out the right impression.”

“Thank you,” said Michael. “Can you just show us the wall to get into the Alley? Got letter explaining how but yeah.”

“No problem,” said the Bartender. “Right this way. Oh the name is Tom. For you parents, if yer need to get a hold of yer son here, yah can come here to use our owls. They’ll get the job done right quick.”

“Thanks,” said Pa. He seemed the least worried by Tom’s overly friendliness. Dad and I were always a bit worried about new people.

Tom showed us to a brick wall where he pulled out his wand and tapped a set of bricks. Immediately they started pulling back to reveal Diagon Alley. Tom was right the place was packed and it wasn’t even nine yet. There must have been ten times as many people than the previous time Michael and I had been here when we were with Papa.

The noise was overwhelming to say the least and as I turned the discman back, I found it to not be working. Something here must make muggle technology not work though what was beyond me. Our group started walking away with Michael in the lead. I knew he was going to head straight to Gringotts but I started to lose track of him in the crowd. Thankfully Pa seemed to notice me lagging behind and stopped to wait for me. Hand in hand we set off to catch up. They had a bit of a lead and I couldn’t see Dad or any of the others but Pa who was the tallest of us all didn’t seem worried in the least so I tried to set my worries aside. It wasn’t working.

Pa pulled us to the side where there a small shop. Pa pushed his way through the door and then closed it behind us. I hadn’t been to this shop before but as it was only my second visit that was of little suprise. The room was decorated with magical paintings of all sorts of things and one of them I recognized as a painting of Merlin. He was a big deal as far as I could tell from Michael’s history book. The place was relatively empty though a gaggle of young adults sat to in a booth towards the back. They seemed to be playing some sort of game.

“Welcome,” said a round wizard who had a curly goatee and was balding. “Welcoming to the Dreaming, Games Emporium. You have the look of a muggle out of place but our shop is welcoming to all types of folks. Anything I can help you find?”

“We just came in cause it looked quiet,” said Pa. “Bit overwhelming out there right now. My eldest son is attending Hogwarts this year and we are here to drop off a family friend with her grandparents. You don’t happen to know the way to Ollivander's shop do you?”

“Of course,” said the shopkeep. “Name’s John by the way. So it is down the Alley about a block and a half and on the right. Shouldn’t miss it as it has that old sign of theirs. Garrick won’t let me fix it up for him though says it has character the way it is.”

“Do you mind if we stay here till it quiets down out there? Blake here has anxiety issues,” asked Pa.

“I don’t mind you hanging out, you might buy something,” said John. “But it isn’t gonna get any quieter today. Well not till most places are closed at least. But I have just the thing for you. Got a cousin who is Autistic and he comes in with a pair of enchanted earmuffs that play music and block out other noises. He showed me how to perform the charms to make them. I’m sure if you give me a bit I could give you something.”

“That would be lovely,” said Pa. “I am not going to even pretend to know how any of that works but all the same we are very appreciative of it.”

“Yeah isn’t a problem. Besides I need to work on something like this anyway. I’m supposed to be figuring out if they are sellable and kinda been putting that off,” said John. “This is gonna take me maybe twenty minutes, why don’t you have a look around. We have a lot of muggle games too. Magic is very useful but you muggles have some great ideas on things.”

I just nodded and started to work my way through the shelves that lined the place. There were so many different things that I didn’t recognize at all. Sure there was a large selection of chess boards but the odd thing was they only came with one side and most of the sets were moving. Pa seemed quite intrigued with that. He enjoyed playing chess and had taught both Michael and I to play but as Pa was much better than either Michael or I at the game we hardly played. Still it was fun to look at the various different themes at play. I particularly liked one that was filled with fey creatures.

Eventually John came back with a pink hair band in tow. He looked a bit worried but I couldn’t see why until it hit me. The only color he had available had been pink which wasn’t very manly. When I was being honest with myself it was the color I prefered over reds or blues. Sure Purple was my favorite color but pink was still something I liked. This grain of truth though always made me feel nasty inside though. Like my heart had been ripped out long ago and the wound had never healed fully.

“I hope you don’t mind pink,” said John. “I know it isn’t the most manly of things but I figure you can paint it later. I would just cast a color changing charm on it but I am afraid that would mess with the other charms on it. Well if you would try it on?”

I nodded and took the hair band from his outstretched hand. The thing was too big when I put it on initially but it shrunk almost immediately. With it snug over my head I could hear music coming from what seemed like all around me. It was calming music that sort of reminded me of elevator music but less repetitive. I sat there listening to it for a bit wondering why no one had asked how it was working when Pa put his hand on my shoulder. I looked up to him to see his mouth moving but I couldn’t hear a thing he was saying.

Removing the hairband, I said, “It works. Maybe too well. I can’t hear anything but the music while it is on.”

“Hmm,” said John. “Well better go back to the drawing board on that one. Do you want to keep that one? It is gonna take me a while to tweak with the spell to get it to work better. Like weeks at least.”

“Pa?” I asked. I couldn’t help but let my longing spill into my voice. This made the world much better.

“We would love to keep it. How much do you want for it?” asked Pa. “I only have, uh, muggle money right now.”

“Oh don’t fret that. You’re helping me make a better product. Can’t charge you for that. Just come back in a couple weeks and tell me how well the thing is holding up. Just send me an owl with any music you would prefer it to play. Right now I can only make it play one so hope that you don’t mind,” said John.

“Thank you,” I said. I slipped the headband back on and looked to Pa. I watched him sigh and take me by the hand.

Outside was much more tolerable without the noise. Pa had put me up on his shoulders and I could see nearly everything from up there. Not that my vantage point revealed where Abigail, Michael and Dad had got off to but I didn’t really mind. Pa didn’t seem to need direction and was headed towards Ollivander’s shop which I could see over the sea of people. There was just as much crowd in front of Ollivanders as anywhere else but more seemed to be just sitting there waiting. I wasn’t certain if we were even going to be able to get to the front door. Pa didn’t seem to mind and I wasn’t going to leave the comfort of my hairband to be able to talk to him.

Somehow Pa got all the way to the front of the crowd outside of Ollivanders. I hadn’t been paying attention and as I turned to look I could see a few people behind us staring daggers at Pa. He wasn’t much to wait in lines when there wasn’t a proper line. It was as if the wizarding world didn’t know how to que. All in all a few angry people were worth the cut in line. Especially as we weren’t there to shop.

Pa had to take me down for us to get into the building. Inside there was an older woman who was spinning back and forth slightly with a look of worry. Mr Ollivander wasn’t to be seen but two red headed boys waited near the desk. There was a pile of wands on the desk which was far larger than Michael’s had been. The mother or grandmother of the twins smiled sweetly at us as we entered.

Pa and her talked for a moment. She seemed to have been explaining something to Pa but I didn’t hear the slightest peep of noise still. Mr Ollivander came from behind one of the many shelves. He was so focused on the wand that until he had handed it over he didn’t seem to notice us. One of the boys swished the wand in the air and for a moment it seemed like it might be the one as red sparks shot out of the end of the wand. That was until the sparks exploded with a force far above what seemed right for specks of their size. The blast knocked over one of the bookshelves with a clattering of wands all over the floor and knocked both boys back to the glass window behind them. Pa seemed almost to have been ready for that and had braced against the blast. I however was not so lucky. I flew back into a small shelf to the far right side of the shop. Pain shot up my back that was unlike anything I had ever felt before and then the shelf collapsed on top of me. I still couldn't hear a thing but my hands were pinned.

Everything hurt. There wasn’t a bit of me that wasn’t in pain. I had bit my tongue and could feel cuts and bruises all over my arms neck and legs. But the pain in my back was bad enough to nearly drown out the rest of it all. I couldn’t muster the strength to try to free myself.

The half of a shelf that blocked my view from what was going on was lifted aside and tossed with an ease that almost scared me. Fear gripped Pa with its spindly fingers tightening its grip as he glanced at me.

“I’m fine,” I sputtered. Pa said something back but I couldn't hear him. He had reached down to me and pulled me from the mess. I moved like a rag doll in his grip. “Why is my shirt all red now?”

He pulled my hairband off my head and I could see his tears running down his cheeks. Pa never cried. Not once but his tears dripped onto my face. As his hand rubbed my head spikes of pain ran through my body.

‘I know that you're scared but I need to see if I am to help her,” said the mother. “Know a few healing spells. Had to with my boys over there.”

Pa didn't’ seem like he could speak as he sat back from me. The mother looked over me and pulled up my shirt to see though it didn’t reveal what had skewered me. Whatever it was must have been bad as her face went even more pale. With her wand in hand she said something that I didn't’ catch as the world was starting to blur. Some of my pain lessened and I could breathe much better. The woman sighed in relief.

“Gonna have to take her to Saint Mungo’s,” said the woman. “Don’t worry the healers will fix her up as right as rain in no time. Much better than I at this. Your muggles right?”

“Yeah,” said Pa as he nodded. “That a hospital?”

“Only the best in the Isles. Don’t worry this sort of thing is an easy fix as long as none of her organs got hit and even then won’t spend more than a day in the hospital. Can you stand?” she asked of Pa. “We got to get her to a fireplace. I don’t think apperating with her would be a good thing. Not in this state. Name’s Molly Weasley.”

“Julian Webb. I’ll be ready in a bit,” said Pa. He got up and disappeared behind Mrs Weasley who was wiping away things from my face. “Mr Ollivander? Did your wife let you know your granddaughter was going to be dropped off today?”

“Yes we were expecting her,” said Mr. Ollivander. “Don’t know if she has yet? Tell me that isn’t her is it?”

“No that’s my son Blake,” said Pa. “He’s Abigail’s best friend and we were going to stop by but we got separated. Can you tell my partner where we are if he shows up? At St. Mungo’s. Whatever that is.”

“Of course,” said Mr. Ollivander. “Molly now don’t worry I’ll watch your sons while you're gone.”

“Thank you kindly,” said Mrs Weasley. “Don’t be causing any more explosions. And help Mr. Ollivander clean up this mess.”

The two twins seemed to be still slightly dazed and both couldn’t stop staring at me. The one in green had tears running down his cheeks and the other was holding him by the shoulders with fingers so tight that you could see the blood draining from them.

Being picked up was quite painful and Mrs Weasley had to recast her spell on me afterwards. Mr. Ollivander lead us into a back room and through a door into a room that seemed to be in a different building. Gone was the dust and clutter and instead a nice and proper house. Like I would imagine a well to do family might have. Nothing screamed of opulence but nothing seemed cheap either. The fireplace was down the hall and to a right. Mrs Weasley explained to Pa how something called Floo powder worked before showing him. A bright green flash and she was gone from the fireplace. I shut my eyes as tightly as I could when Pa followed suit.

We came to a large vaulted room that had a few milling about. One person seemed to have lost their had somehow though they seemed to be doing fine beyond that. Another was waiting on a pair of chairs stretched out with giant boils that kept forming and then pop only to form again. They looked quite pained with each pop. I didn’t watch for long as my stomach was turning at the sight of them. Mrs Weasley was already talking to the receptionist when dad hurried over while doing his best to jostle me as little as possible. I could feel that I was loosing blood again as my head was starting to spin.

“Here put him down on this,” said the receptionist. He twirled his wand and a stretcher appeared out of nowhere. “Well take him up to magical accidents and have him right in no time.”

A second person had come up. This one wearing white robes and hat who the stretchers seemed to follow on its own. I was having difficulty keeping track of what we went past or what was happening. Pa was talking to me but I could really understand what he was saying.

I came to in a hospital bed though not one like the television had but an older one. Still it seemed to function much the same as I was slightly propped up. I was feeling much better and all but the smallest amount of pain had left me. I felt drained like I had been in gym class all day.

Pa didn’t seem to notice me as he stared at the ceiling. I could tell he was exhausted as he wasn’t even moving his leg which he would do when he was stressed. I reached out and touched his leg with just the tip of my fingers. He jolted up and I could tell he had been crying from the red in his eyes.

“Oh thank god,” said Pa. “I’ve been so worried.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“Sorry, Sorry. For what? You didn’t do a thing wrong,” said Pa. “I’m just happy you're alright, well awake. The doctor said we were very lucky. The wand that pierced you didn’t shatter which would have been a problem. But they say you should make a full recover. Just a bit of a scar that won’t fade is all.”

“Just a scar?” I said. That seemed like very little for all of that. “That doesn’t seem like much.”

“Yeah magic is pretty amazing. Mrs Weasley went to go collect Dad, Michael and maybe Abigail,” said Pa.

“Sorry for ruining today,” I mumbled. Even with the pain from my wound all but a dull echo in my body something felt wrong. I felt wrong and I couldn’t place it. It was the same sort of dread that always plagued me. A doctor had told me I had some sort of generalized stress disorder but I didn’t really understand that and even that label never fit. “Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.”

“Bud, none of this is your fault. I wish I knew what got you thinking like this but you know it isn’t your fault,” said Pa. “Just try to rest. I left that hairband back at Mr Ollivander’s shop or I’d offer you that. Hopefully they don’t throw it out. I got this wand not that I can use it.”

“Is that the one?” I asked while stumbling over my words. It was growing hard to keep my breathing under control which was the last straw before a meltdown.

“Yeah,” said Pa. “Said the darn thing came out unschathed somehow. Can’t see Mr Ollivander wanting it back now that it is soak in your innards.”

“That is gross,” I giggled. Pa was good at getting me to laugh. “Can I see it? I want to see if I can make it work.”

“Sure, though no more explosions,” Pa said. “Maybe some good will come of this.”

The wand felt right in my hands even if it seemed a bit big. The wood was dark reddish in color and it had intricate designs carve in it. It felt ancient and I could feel a yearning in it. Like it had waited a long time to be weilded. Was my blood the reason it was so dark in color? It didn’t feel dirty or anything. I centered my mind for a moment before saying “Lumos.”

The wand lit up like a magnesium torch. It was much more powerful of a result than I was expecting. I couldn’t help but think the wand was showing off for me. I was fine with that. I felt like a part of me that had been missing for all my life was back in my hands. I smiled at. My worry had all but faded.

“Good job,” said Pa. “Though I am pretty certain that Papa told you two not to be practicing magic yet.”

I looked up at him from the corner of my eyes. I wasn’t much for praying but hopefully he would not ask any further. He just smiled and rubbed my head. I sighed in relief.

“I dont’ know what your Papa was thinking taking Michael shoping so early. There was no way you two weren’t gonna dig into that,” said Pa. “I sure woudl have. So what else can you do?”

“Um the light spell and a shield spell. That one is a lot harder and it only really works some of the time. That and I don’t think it was meant to block pillows so I don’t know how good we are doing,” I said. “Michael knows more than I do.”

“I’m very proud of you two. Someday the world will see how special you are in the same way your dad and I do,” said Pa. “But enough of that you should be resting. The doctor said she would be back later to check up on you but that you were to rest uninterrupted till then.”

I nodded. I rested my eyes which were heavier than I had thought and soon the waking world was replaced by that of dreams. Dreamt of amazing things of feats and skills that I could scarcely imagine. Just little figments of ideas that flitered through my dreams. The only concrete thing in all of it was my family and Abigail but despite that my dreams weren’t nightmarish if anything they were pleasant.

Hunger awoke me some time later. The room was quite bright more so than it had been earlier. Pa had gone somewhere and the only others in the room were patients. There was a small blonde girl who was just staring at the ceiling. Her arm was all bandaged up but there was something off to her. It was like I had found a kindred spirit. Albiet one who seemed broken in some way.

With a grimace at my clothes, which had been replaced with a hospital gown, I stumbled over to the girl's bed. Her eyes were quite beautiful but they were filled with the red of tears. Something horrible had happened to her so much that she wasn’t really there when I was looking down at her.

“Hello,” I said. I paused for a moment before taking a seat. “Something real bad must have happened to you. I don’t know if I can even think of what it was. Still I just feel like talkiing to someone and while Pa says that I should only talk to those who talk back, I feel like you would be an interesting person to talk to.”

I paused to give her a chance to speak. When she didn’t I continued, “I hope I get to keep this wand. It impaled me. Which by the way you should avoid if you can. Not that I had any choice in the matter. But it just feels right in a way that Michael’s wand hasn’t. Michael is my adoptive brother. We do most things together but he is going to Hogwarts this year and I have to wait another two years past that. I bet you are going to go as well. Maybe we are the same year. That would be cool. You seem like a good friend.”

Once more I waited for her to talk and when she didn’t I continued. I talked to her for a good twenty minutes till someone entered the room. Michael’s head poked in from behind the door and I could see his panic, subtle compared to mine, until he turned and saw me. I could see his worry fall from his face.

“I’m so glad your okay,” said Michael. He ran over and squeezed me into a tight hug. “When we showed up at Ollivander’s Wands they were closed because of some sort of accident. Mrs Ollivander said you had been taken to Saint Mungo’s and I freaked. I’m so happy you're safe though.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled. I hadn’t meant to worry him. But I must have when we got separated.

“No,” Michael said firmly and not the least bit quiet. “You aren’t to blame for this. Not at all. It was an accident. Those two twins didn’t mean to and you had no idea. Nothing's your fault.”

I looked away from Michael trying to hide the fact that I was still feeling at fault. My attention was drawn towards the girl next to us. She was looking at us as tears ran down her cheeks. I pulled myself out of Michael’s grip and pulled her into a hug.

“You finally there now?” I asked quietly.

“I’m sorry. I”m sorry. I’m sorry,” mumbled the girl. She at first seemed off put from my hug but quickly she gripped me as tightly as I her. “Where is my papa?”

“I don’t know,” I said quietly. “But we can go find him if you want?”

“Please,” said the girl.

“Why don’t you two stay here and I will go ask the nurse person just down the hall?” suggested Michael. “Besides Pa and Dad are going to want to see you. I sort of just snuck past them.”

I nodded and Michael retreated out of the room. The girl wouldn’t let go of me and I didn’t mind so I climbed up onto the bed with her. She leaned against me and it was then I noticed how skinny she was. I could see her ribs out the back of her gown that wasn’t tied shut. Her blue eyes though were like crystal and she seemed to be staring at something running around my head though I couldn't see it.

“Your nargles are a special bred they are,” said the girl. “Never seen any like that before.”

“I’ve never seen a nargle so I wouldn’t know. Does everyone have them?” I asked.

“I’ve only met one person who seemed immune to them,” said the girl. “My gran never seemed to have them. She was a strong woman but I don’t remember her much.”

“Yeah I haven’t ever met any of my grandparents. Or any of my adopted ones outside of Papa and he is an adopted Papa,” I said.

“That sounds complicated. Christmas must either be very fun or not so much,” said the girl. “I don’t have much family anymore.”

She started to sob gently with her last words and her head leaned against my shoulder. I rubbed her far shoulder from me and just tried to do what Michael would do for me when I was feeling down. She must have lost someone or somebodies who were special to her. I didn’t want to think of what would happen if I lost any of my family.

A nurse walked in and she had a weird mix of sad and happy on her face. She pulled out her wand and said something but I saw no effect from her spell. She didn’t seem to be concerned though as she walked over to us.

“Oh Luna, it is so good to see you up,” said the nurse. “Your father is going to be so relieved. I’m sure you want to see him but he is out at work right now. Can you tell me how you're feeling?”

“Bad,” said Luna. “My heart hurts.”

“I’m sure it does,” said the Nurse. He voice was soft and loving. “Does anywhere else hurt?”

“No,” said Luna.

My family piled into the room and they all seemed to be in various states of disheveledness themselves. Pa had it the worse but the other two looked like they had been through a marathon of emotions. They kept their distance as the nurse asked a few more questions of Luna. I failed to pay attention to them as I kept my focus on my own family. Guilt seemed like an incomplete word for what I was feeling at the moment. Even if Michael and Pa were right and none of this was my fault.

“I’m going to send an owl to your father. If you want I can get you some privacy?” asked the nurse of Luna.

“No,” said Luna startled. “Don’t make them go away. I need this one.”

“Okay,” said the Nurse. “Just no rough housing. Either of you.”

We both nodded and the nurse left the room. Michael sat down on the bed on my other side and Dad dragged the other chair over. The four of us just sat in silence with the only sound the soft sobbing of Luna on my shoulder. After a bit her tears seemed to dry but she still hung on me. Abigail would be jealos and on some level that thought made me happy.

“Let me guess you want to stay till her dad gets here?” asked Dad. I nodded. “You have too big of a heart. Though that is part of what makes you special.”

“Maybe that is why you have such weird Nargles?” asked Luna. “I mean I am not certain they are Nargles anyway.”

Everyone except for me had a puzzled look to them. Michael seemingly the worse. He opened his mouth a couple of times but he seemed to think better of it and just let the whole thing drop. I just patted him on the back.

Luna and I talked for a while. She had all sorts of interesting things to say and about half of it seemed too absurd to be real but that didn’t matter. As long as she felt they were real that was all that mattered. Dad and Pa took a nap which was fairly ususal and Michael did his best to kepp up with our conversation.

A battered man came rushing into the room and scooped Luna up in a hug. I could feel the joy and stress radiating off of him. He spun her around in the air nearly smacking Michael with her feet and doing so to me.

“Oh my sun and moon. I am so happy to see you in the land of the living once more,” said Luna’s Father. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for your waking.”

“It is alright father,” said Luna. “I don’t know if his magic would have worked with you here.”

“Whose magic, dear?” asked Luna’s father.

“Well really both of them. I forgot my manners and I don’t know their names. Still they woke me from my nightmare,” said Luna.

“I can’t thank you enough,” said Luna’s father. “I was afraid I had lost my little Luna to the land of dreams and memories. But you woke her for me. Thank you boys. Tell me your names. The world will know of your heroics.”

“Father,” said Luna. “The world will know of them later. Maybe best to let them be for now.”

“Yes,” said Luna’s father. “I can see great things in you two. If you are in need of anything just look for the Lovegoods.”

“Of course sir,” said Michael. “I’m Michael and this is Blake. Didn’t really do anything though sir.”

“Humble too,” said Mr Lovegood. “You’re of age to attend Hogwarts yes?”

“Yeah this is my first year, sir,” said Michael. “Blake here has two years to go.”

“My little Luna has three,” said Mr Lovegood. “It is good to know she will have such others to look up to. But I shall not take up more of your time this day. You must have had a exciting day to be here.”

“Exciting is one way of putting it,” said Pa. “Not the word I would use but it does fit. I’ll go check if Blake can leave.”

I hopped off Luna’s bed and sat down on my own. Both Michael and Dad seemed as exhausted as i felt. We didn’t speak and I only half way listened to the Lovegoods talking. Luna had been there a week so far and Mr Lovegood had spent that time working on funeral preperations. Luna may have run out of tears but I hadn’t.

Before too long Pa returned with a set of new clothes. They were not your typical muggle affair and were a bit too big for me. Still I liked that they were long and flowing. Thankfully there was a curtain to dress behind. I didn’t much like being naked let alone infront of others. Still it was weird finding a healed scar on my adomin where this morning there was none. It was sore to the touch though so I didn’t dwell on it.

Down in the receiption area I found myself much more able to take in the details of the hospital. There were a number of paintings though most were much larger than the ones of Gringotts. All of them were moving though except for one which seemed to be missing the subject as it depicted an empty chair. To one side was a set of fireplaces each with a small pot of floo powder.

Pa walked up to the receptionist and stood there for a good minute. He must have had something worrying him as he wasn’t one to just stare at a person for this long. Pa said, “Excuse me. I was wondering if you were the person we had to talk to about squaring the bill.”

“No that is up in administrative,” said the Receptionist. “But you were hear because of an accident and an emergency at that. We don’t charge for those services. Especially not ones that require as little work as your kid did.”

“Oh,” said Pa. “Thanks then. Uh one more question. We came here via floo powder but I don’t know how to get back to where we were. How would I work the thing to get to Diagon Alley?”

“Oh, sorry. Forgot you were muggles there for a second,” said the Receptionist. He got up and walked over to the fireplaces. “Here let me just show you. Just take a pinch of the powder and throw it into the fire then step in and say your destination very carefully. Keep your eyes shut and your elbows in for safety reasons and you should come out the other side all fine.”

“Thanks,” said Pa. “Wasn’t paying much attention on the way here.”

“Totally understood,” said the Receptionist. “Have a good day.”

I took the floo trip the best. Michael looked green and dad and pa were less than pleased by the experience. Still we ended up at once more at the Leaky Cauldron. The place was pretty well packed which made sense when I spotted the grandfather clock on the far wall. It was half past noon and everyone who had been out shopping was here eating now. It was too much for me already and I pulled on Pa’s shirt. I didn't need to say anything else as I stumbled along with them out of the pub.

The streets were a bit clearer but not by enough to matter. Pa put me back up on his shoulders and we hurried down the alley. This time we managed to stay together. Ollivander’s Wands had a big closed sign out front and the interior looked to be as much of a mess as when we were there last. I couldn’t see how we were supposed to check on Abigail now but Dad and Michael seemed to know where to go as they continued further down the street. We came to a small off shoot and followed Michael down it. After two twists we found ourselves in what I would have called an alleyway. None of this busy street but a quiet and dingy walk way. Three doors down and Michael knocked on the one on the left.

“Oh thank goodness,” said Mrs Ollivander when the door sprung open. “I was worried sick about him when you brought him through. Is he alright he looks a bit off?”

“Just stress,” said Michael. “Honestly was expecting this today. Not the explosion mind you but him ending up nearly comatose cause of stress. He should be fine after a good night’s rest.”

“Oh well come in, come in,” said Mrs Ollivander. “Abigail isn’t much better. I can’t tell if it is worry or something else.”

“Blake could tell you,” said Pa. “if he was up for talking right now. The two of them get each other like nothing I have ever seen before. Blake is a bit autistic and I suspect that Abigail is too.”

“Autistic? What is that?” asked Mrs Ollivander. “Is that some sort of muggle medical terminology or some other such nonsense.”

“Yeah,” said Dad. “I don’t rightly understand it but the school said he might need to be put in a special class but we fought that as well we could. Both Blake and Abigail are very smart kids and I for one don’t think it is fair to keep them behind because they aren’t the best at socializing.”

Mrs Ollivander had showed us to a parlor that also had a fireplace though this one was much less impressive and I doubted one could use the floo here. Abigail and Mr Ollivander were seated at a couch with cups of tea and half eaten sandwiches. Both of them looked worse for wear. Abigail jumped up and scooped me up into a hug as soon as she saw me.

“I, I was so worried,” stammered Abigail. “You’re fine? Right?”

I nodded. Words felt too hard at the moment. I held on to Abigail as she started to back out of our hug. Without any further prompting she went back to squeezing me in a bear hug. We sat there for a long awkward few moments as everyone else just sort of stared. The only one who seemed to be undisturbed by the length of our hug was Michael who had flopped down on the opposite couch near Mrs Ollivander.

Finally feeling human again, Abigail and I flopped down onto the couch with me leaning against her. Pa and Mr Ollivander went through a few minutes of mutual apologies over who was at fault for this morning. Dad ended the cycle of argumentative apologizing by changing the subject to school.

“So are you planing on having Abigail go back to muggle school now?” asked Dad.

“No we weren’t planning on letting her continue. There is just too much she’ll know about our world that I don’t think it is wise putting her out there to accidentally expose the wizarding world. Not only that but muggles don’t have the best track record of being accepting of magic even unintentional magic. It is just safer this way.”

Abigail didn’t seem all that happy about that. I knew she only cared because she wouldn’t be able to see me near as much any more. Visiting on weekends would be easy enough but if I were to stay in school then I would be stuck only doing that. It was further nail in the coffin that was my composure.

A crack of thunder filled the room which made me jump out of my skin. A storm cloud had formed above Abigail’s head and her face matched the storm above. The last two days had been far too eventful for either of us and if I could I would have melted into a puddle on the floor. Abigail on the other hand started to flail about. She was pounding on her head.

Mrs Ollivander whipped out her wand and pointed it at Abigail. She went rigid and fell into the couch. She was still breathing but whatever had been cast on her did not make the panic disappear. Mr Ollivander stood up and popped out of existence while Mrs Ollivander dispelled the cloud.

The room started to get hectic as everyone burst into words. I couldn't’ keep track of who was speaking at any given time, let alone what was being said. Mrs Ollivander disappeared and soon someone was putting something on my head. Music filled my world in that instant and I could feel myself calming immediately. Still it would take me some time before I could move again.

Mr Ollivander popped back into existence carrying a new bag. He pulled to identical vials from the bag and handed one to Pa. Pa pulled me up from the couch where I had been seeping out of reality and he forced the liquid down my throat. Not that I fought him. I wasn’t really able to nor even wanted too. On some level I did not’ exist. Mr Ollivander had done the same for Abigail.

A strange calmness washed over me and i felt drowsy all of the sudden. After a few minutes Pa took off my hairband and the world came back to me. Or at least sound did. Nothing really felt real at the moment but it wasn’t as disconcerting as usual.

“Blake,” said Pa. “Can you hear me?” 

“Yesh,” I said slurred. “I feel..funny” 

“Just a side effect of the potion we gave you,” said Mrs Ollivander. “Only had adult sizes so a bit much for you two I would suspect. Don't’ fret though it isn’t harmful.”

“How’s Abigail?” I asked.

“She is fine. Just fell asleep,” said Michael. “How much is it for those potions?”

“Three sicles a piece,” said Mr Ollivander. “We can provide you some if you would like.”

“Blake can affor a life time supply of the stuff if needed,” said Michael. “But I have enough to get some for now. Couldnt’ get into his vault without him so had to use our shared money.”

“I’ll pay you,” I said. I paused trying to think of the word that for whatever reason had decided to take a vacation. I found it. “Back.”

“You won’t worry about it,” said Michael in a very commanding voice. “You are going to just sit there and rest. Like the doctor said you should.”

“Michael,” said Dad. “Let us handle this okay. I know you are stressed and the last two days have been a bunch of things you have had to take charge of. But we are here now and you can let us handle this.”

Michael started crying. It was a very unusual sight. Dad and Pa pulled him into a hug and Mrs Ollivander hurried out of the room. I was starting to loose the world again though this time it was far more pleasant. I didn’t fight it.


	5. Chapter Five

I woke to my stomach killing me. I was in a strange room that I didn’t recognize. The whole thing smelt of new paint and cleaning supplies. Only the bed that I lay on adorned the room. Someone was sleeping behind me. I stole a quick glance and found Abigail still out of it.

My hunger reared its ugly head again and I had to get out of the bed and face the world once more. I wasn’t really ready for that but I wasn’t going to be able stand the nausea much either. I found myself in a large hallway that had many moving pictures of people who all looked relatively similar to Mr Ollivander. A few of them even pointed in the right direction as the house was much more maze like than I had thought possible from the outside. It was definitely bigger on the inside.

I found my way to a set of stairs that lead downwards. I could hear the sounds of people chatting down below. Following the sounds I stumbled upon a kitchen dining room combo. Mrs Ollivander was working on something that smelt so very good and made my stomach protest all the more. Dad and Pa were sitting at the table looking rather bored but content to just sit and watch.

“You feeling better?” asked Pa as I walked into the room.

“Yeah. Really hungry though. How long did I sleep?” I asked.

“A handful of hours,” said Dad. “Did you eat at the hospital?”

“No,” I said.

“Gerdy, do you have a small bit that Blake can have to tide him over?” asked Pa. He walked over to the counter and stood patiently just out of the way.

It was then I noticed just how much was happening in the room. Potatoes were cutting themselves and plopping into a boiling pot along with some carrots. Onions were being sauteed by themselves. Mrs Ollivander was cutting up chunks of beef into much smaller chunks. All in all what should have taken hours to make looked like it would be done in an hour. Magic was amazing.

“Of course,” said Mrs Ollivander. “Poor boy hasn’t eaten all day. There are some fresh rolls in the oven that should be about done. Go ahead and pull those out and onto that rack. Hot pads are next to the oven on the right.”

Pa did as he was asked and some lightly golden brown rolls were quickly placed on the cooling rack. There was butter on the table that Dad was sitting at and I had the best roll I had ever eaten. Homemade was by far the best.

“That better, bud?” asked Dad.  
“Much,” I said. “Whatever that stuff you gave me earlier helped loads. I feel normal right now. And I shouldn’t.”

“Yeah Michael went to go find some smaller dosages with Garrick,” said Dad. “They have been gone a while so either it had to be made up for them or Michael convinced Garrick to let him do some shopping too. Was Abigail still sleeping?”

“Yeah,” I said. “She probably still is.”

“Good,” said Mrs Ollivander. “You two have had some pretty stressful couple of days. Probably for the best to sleep it off.”

“Speaking of busy days,” said Pa. “Dad and I were talking while you were sleeping and we think it might be best if we homeschool you this year. With Michael at Hogwarts it won’t be as tight with money and I got a promotion recently so.”

“I don’t want you thinking that means you got out of schooling though,” said Dad. “We just figured that without Michael there or Abigail that school might be a bit much for you this year. Besides I kinda hate my current Job.”

“Only kinda?” I asked jokingly. “I don’t think you ever come home happy after work.”

“He’s right you know,” teased Pa. “I can’t say I am not looking forward to a less grumpy Julian. Or the potential for more time alone together.”

“Not in front of Blake,” whispered Dad as he leaned in to kiss Pa. There was just something that made me happy seeing them together. Like anything could happen when they were happy. “As for the school this lets us get you up to speed on some more magical subjects. I can’t see why we can’t just go over a history book all the same as a teacher. No history teacher does anything outside of read from the book.”

“Oh it is a bit more nuanced than that,” said Mrs Ollivander. “Professor Binns has been teaching at Hogwarts for the half the last century. He knows his stuff.”

“Still can’t hurt to get a early start,” said Pa. “I’m sure there is all sorts of things you can at least learn the theory for.”

“Don’t push yourself too much Blake,” said Mrs Ollivander. “Nearly half the students at Hogwarts are muggle born and they know nearly nothing about magic when they get there. You needn’t worry about catching up. Though your Pa is right. Learning theory couldn’t hurt.”

“What is Abigail going to be doing for now?” I asked.

“Just being a young girl is all. Maybe working on her anxiety as best she is able but really all I want her to do for now is to settle,” said Mrs Ollivander. “I worry that the last two days haven’t been the only bit of bad to have happened to her.”

“It isn’t. School has been unfair. Even Michael admits that we get bullied the most,” I said. “He tried to stop it but not everybody wanted to do what he said.”

“Michael’s a bit of a leader huh?” said Mrs Ollivander. “A Gryffindor or Hufflepuff as far as I can tell. I bet he works for the ministry after school.”

“Michael is going to be one of those nurses or doctors at St Mungo’s,” said Dad. “He has always been a bit driven to save people. I could just see it in the way he was watching them today. Mark my words he will either be one of those healers or running the place.”

“Now that is something we need more of,” said Mrs Ollivander. “Not many in the wizarding world have the talent for it. It is hard work. A lot harder than most expect and very few make it in. What do you want to do when your older Blake?”

I paused to think what I wanted to be. My world got a lot bigger and I didn’t really even know where to begin. Yet even through all of that there was one thing I wanted but it wasn’t a thing I would ever get. I wasn’t supposed to want it.

“Hey don’t worry yourself there,” said Mrs Ollivander. “That is all things you can work out later. Just do well in school and you will have a great job I’m sure. The world needs floo network maintenance as much as it needs Minister of Magic. Everything is important.”

I just nodded. I still couldn’t get a memory out of my head though. Just the headline of a third page article. Man in dress found brutally beaten to death. I bet he wanted to be a mommy too.

A door opened somewhere outside of the room and a moment later Michael and Mr Ollivander walked in. Both seemed fairly happy. Well until Michael saw me. I could tell he was still worried. They had been shopping as Michael set down a number of bags right before he scooped me up into a hug.

“Tell me your feeling better? Do you want more of that potion? You should be sleeping,” stammered Michael. “Were there any side effects? Is Abigail alright?”

“My boy, you need to calm down,” said Mr Ollivander. “I’m sure that your fathers would not be just sitting here if Blake wasn’t fine. Or at least as much as he can be.”

“I’m better,” I said. “Much better.”

“Good that means the potion worked well. I bought you another ten dosages. They have to be kept cold but they should last a good while,” said Michael. “I also went and got some more books.”

“Tried to buy half the damn store,” said Mr Ollivander. “He even had the money for it. I talked him down to only twenty books.”

“Muggle methods of keeping you healthy aren’t working,” said Michael. “So I got every book on the subject of magical healing. Figure might be worth a try. Not that I think I can do any of this yet.”

“See told you,” said Dad. “He is going to be running that hospital when he gets out of school.”

“The boy is quite talented. Had him perform a few tests to see if he has an aptitude for the magic,” said Mr Ollivander. “I am quite certain he will be a great healer one day.”

“You were out for three hours,” said Mrs Ollivander. “Surely you didn’t just stop by the apothecary and the book store.”

“No,” said Michael. “We stopped at another place and a second bookstore. The first one didn’t have what I wanted in it.”

“Well of course not,” said Mr Ollivander. “Most stores won’t carry any book like that.”

Michael shot him a look that was one of his stop talking now looks. I think everyone got the hint and dropped the subject. Still I worried about what sort of book it could be. Surely not something dark. We had read enough about the dark arts in our history book to know that it wasn’t something nice people dabbled in.

“Well dinner is ready,” said Mrs Ollivander. “Blake why don't’ you run upstairs and wake Abigail if you can?”

I nodded. Hopefully I would be able to find my way back to the room. It was a bit like a maze in here. Thankfully it was as if the paintings knew where I was headed. They all looked similar and I could have sworn I saw the same person in multiple of the paintings.

I crawled up onto the bed to where Abigail was still sleeping. Her breathing was calm and steady and she looked peaceful. Almost too much to disturb. Almost. I shook her gently. You had to be careful waking her or she would panic and jump right into you. That was a headache I wasn’t looking forward to. It took six shakes to get her to stir. At first she just stared up at me. It was dark in the room and it was hard to make out her eyes outside of the slight gleam they had from the light outside the window that slipped through the cracks of the blinds. Still I knew our eyes were connected. I couldn’t tell you why but I knew she was feeling better already. We just sat there for a bit not speaking.

“Is it dinner time?” asked Abigail. “I’m really hungry.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I think some sort of stew.”

The two of us stumbled back down to the kitchen. The table had been extended and a few new chairs added. There were those shallow bowls that doubled as salad plates at each sitting. The whole thing seemed awfully fanciful to me. I hope that Mr and Mrs Ollivander weren’t going out of their way for us.

“Is Abigail that deep of a sleeper?” asked Mrs Ollivander. “You were up there for almost fifteen minutes.”

“They probably were just sitting up there staring at each other's eyes,” said Michael. “I swear they can talk that way. It is a bit creepy.”

“We are just really good friends,” I said defensively.

“More like lovers,” said Michael. “Dad and Pa don’t even do that and they love each other the most out of anybody.”

“Michael, don't’ torment your brother,” said Dad. He was dishing everyone's bowl. Dad had a hard time not playing host even when he was the guest.

“Hmm,” said Mrs Ollivander. “There are forms of magic that can let two people be bound together in ways beyond mere love. Not to say that love is anything small. But those are beyond what an untrained witch or wizard could perform. That and they are just old marriage rituals. They fell out of practice ages ago.”

“Well maybe they have a lesser version of that,” suggested Michael. He had to pause to take a bite of food. “Blake’s magic tends to be a lot more subtle than Abigail’s.”

“Speaking of magic,” said Pa. “Blake you should ask Mr Ollivander about that wand.”

“Oh yeah,” I said before swallowing my own mouthful of stew. “The wand that got me came out unharmed. Did you want it back?”

“Depends,” said Mr Ollivander. “Do you have it on you?”

“Here it is,” said Pa. He pulled the thing out of his bag. The one that never left his side unless he was showering or sleeping.

“Hmm. Of course it would be this one,” said Mr Ollivander. “The shelf you ran into was the one where I keep the unbought older wands. See the wand chooses the owner not the other way around. Some just never choose a person. This one has been on that shelf since before I was born. Here give it a wave.”

“Can I just cast a spell with it?” I asked. The wand felt good to be back in my hands. “I don’t want to ruin dinner.”

“I suppose that would work,” said Mr Ollivander. “Though only if it is a real spell. I know how many children make up their own spells not knowing how anything works. They never really get results.”

“Lumos,” I said. The wand lit up once more like a magnesium torch. It was honestly too bright.

“I don’t think I’ll be wanting that one back,” said Mr Ollivander. “Funny things wands are at times. Most pick a user in the first couple years of their existence. No longer than ten years. That wand is centuries old. It has never had a master in all that time. Unicorn Heartstring lies at its core. A monstrous task. I only use tail hair for my wands. But the heartstring does work as well. And cherry wood. Slightly flexible. Fourteen inches. I feel we can expect great things from you.”

“Oh quit it with your ominous foretelling,” said Mrs Ollivander. “He does this with everyone. Has some grand story to tell them.”

“I do not do it with everyone,” retorted Mr Ollivander. “I reserve it for only special occasions.”

The table talk paused for a bit after that. Diner with the Ollivander’s reminded me of home in a lot of ways. Just calm and nice. It was a stark contrast to the Richards’ house. Mr Richards was hardly ever there and I don’t ever remember having a family meal with them. I couldn’t tell if it was the food, the potion or just the atmosphere but I was calm for the first time in a few days.

The rest of the evening was a blur and soon I was tucked away in my bed at home. I dreamt of Hogwarts that night. Of what it was going to be like to walk those halls that I hadn’t seen. If the books were anything to go off of I was going to learn such amazing things there. But a constant in my dream was Abigail and Michael being there.

Michal woke me the next morning by gently shaking me. Odd was almost too weak of the word for how that felt. He just smiled as I pulled my pillow over my head and tried vainly to fall back asleep.

“Want to stay here then while we drop me off?” said Michael.

I was out of my bed in record time. Two seconds at most. I didn’t bother waiting to get changed and threw on missmatching outfit that would work. I had fallen asleep in the clothes from the hospital. They would have to be nicely folded so they would keep longer. I had a tendency to wear through clothes faster than outgrow them. I wanted to make sure that wasn’t the case with these.

Pa had breakfast on the table when I finally came out of our room. The smells of sausage gravy and freshly baked biscuits. There was even bacon in the air. I took my customary seat and waited to be served. My mouth watered while I waited.

“Just finishing the bacon right now,” said Pa. “Dad should be out of the shower. Blake will you go make sure he isn’t taking forever in there.”

I nodded, and scurried off to Dad and Pa’s bedroom. Their room was as if a storm had hit it, as always. If you knew what you were looking for there was an obvious system of piles of clean dirty and reusable. I weaved my way through the piles and knocked on the bathroom door. Dad and Pa never seemed to get over having a private bath for themselves and always seemed excited to use it. I knocked twice paused and then knocked three more times.

“I’m out,” said Dad. He was annoyed but it wasn’t at me. “Tell Pa that I will spend as much time as I want in the darn shower. We don’t pay the water bill.”

“Okay,” I said. I rushed back out of the room and to the table. “Dad is out of the shower but he is a bit grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy” Dad said as he came out of the room.

“Sure you aren’t,” said Pa. “Don’t worry I made sure your bacon is nice and crispy.”

“I love you too,” said Dad.

Breakfast was a special time for us as a family when we got the chance that is. There was just some special ritual to Dad serving each of us our food and to Pa having cooked it. We would on days we had time afterwards all help clean though that was becoming a more difficult thing to do as Michael and I grew. Still for a moment I could forget that everything was changing.

The moment passed and we were headed out the door with Michael’s school supplies in tow. He had sent Mercury on a head earlier so as to attract less attention. The Underground was as crazy as always but my headband made the trip much more bearable. The music though didn’t do enough for my growing dread. We came to the stop nearest to King station and made our way to the area between Platform Nine and Ten. Even being a bit early it was still pretty easy to tell which of the columns were the right one as a group of oddly dressed people would disappear into it every minute or so. How no one else noticed was beyond me. We quietly slipped into the right place finding the brick wall to not be there. It was like walking into a different world. With Diagon Alley there was the transition that was the Leaky Cauldron but here there wasn’t anything. Just one moment the muggle world then the next somewhere much more interesting. A bunch of families gathered on a train platform like any other except for the bright red train that sat waiting for the students it was going to whisk away to school. There must have been hundreds of people milling about and I noticed Mrs Weasley from the other day. Next to her were the twins as well as a number of other red haired children including two that looked my age. 

We found our way out of the obviously marked entrance and off to one side. I had been dreading this moment. I looked away for a moment before rushing over to Michael and pulling him into a hug. He pat my back and tears ran down my cheeks unbidden. He was off to school now and I wouldn’t see him until winter break. It seemed like such a long time. He squeezed me hard and I held him for a while. After a minute he pulled my hands off of himself and I stopped struggling against him. He pulled the headband off my head.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” said Michael. “Now be good for Dad and Pa and keep up your practice.”

I nodded and gripped Pa’s side with my arms. Michael smiled and put the headband back on my head and waved. He pulled his chest with him and got onto the train. I watched it start to pull out of the area and then buried my head into Pa’s side.

When I opened my eyes next Mrs. Weasley had dragged her two youngest over and was talking to Pa and Dad. The two of them were busy staring at me but I didn’t pay them any heed. I was used to the stars. After a bit they walked away and a bit after that we followed them. As much as I didn’t want to I had to go home without Michael.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: There is graphic description of a death scene at the end of this chapter. Do not read if you are squimish about that. Sorry if this is an inconvenience to you.

Michael’s third letter had just arrived and it had only been two weeks. It wasn’t as often as I would like but based on what he had said he had a lot of homework to do. The parchment he wrote on seemed silly to me but I still liked to hear from him. Even if he clearly wasn’t the best at using a quill to write. Maybe I would send him a package of ball point pens or pencils. The letter went on about how Professor Snape was the most annoying bully of a teacher that Michael had ever met and that he hated it. Even if potion making was his favorite subject matter. He had been sorted into Gryfindor with the two Weasley twins and a handful of other students that he went on to list not that I cared that much. The Twins and him got along well enough that Michael talked about them a lot in his letters.

Setting the letter down having just read it for the third time I went to get my violin and other things ready. Today I was going to spend the day with Abigail in Diagon Alley. Last weekend she had visited me so it was my turn to visit her. I had been planing the whole thing all week even though I knew that Abigail would have her own thoughts on what to do. I wanted to get some sort of treat with her and then we could visit the book store and find new fiction for me to read and something for her as well. Of course I would have to visit my vault at Gringots but that wouldn’t be a problem and I was looking forward to the ride to the vault. Roller coasters were the best after all. Then some quiet time, at Mrs Olivander’s, where I could play my violin for Abigail.

I went out to meet Dad who was busy getting his coat and shoes on. I slipped mine on and then waited for Dad to go grab something from his room. He was always missing something here or there and sometimes we would be rather late because of it. Thankfully that wasn’t the case today. We were out the door and on our way in just a few minutes.

Saturdays had less traffic to them as more people stayed at home. It was one of the few times that I could easily be outside with out my Walkman or headband blocking the sound. It meant I could walk around without having to hold Dad’s hand and I could look at whatever struck my fancy with more than just a passing glance. Like the bent fire hydrant that must have been hit by a car based on the paint that scuffed it and the odd angle that it sat at. Or sign post that had four street names on it as the streets in either direction had different names. They were silly odd things and I felt like kindred to them. Dad patient as ever waited for me to finish inspecting them before we would move on. Sure I had seen them before but new things happened all the time to them and I felt like I should keep up with their lives as well.

Despite the day the underground was as busy as ever. I clung closely to Dad as we moved through the crowd waiting for the right train and boarded the one towards the center of town. I liked to ride the Underground even if it was full of people and noises. It vibrated in just the right way that somehow made me feel safe and calm. I had to put on my headband still but with it it was a pleasant fifteen minutes into downtown.

We slipped through the crowd at the Underground station and headed up to surface. Tall buildings blocked out most the sky, not that what was visible was all that interesting with the clouds over head in their shapeless gray blanket of the world. We weaved through the small crowd to one of the main roads and headed a few blocks off towards the leaky Cauldron. Hundreds of muggles walked past it as if it didn’t exist and yet it stood there as clearly as day to me and yet I knew that Dad had a hard time seeing it as he nearly walked past it but I pulled him into the right place. It seemed silly to me that he couldn’t see it well but once he was over the threshold he seemed normal as if he could have seen it the whole time.

The inside of the Leaky Cauldron was nearly empty save for some who were all in some form or another eating lunch. Some nursed tankards of frothy beverages and others soda bottles. Tom sat behind the counter preparing something for a customer that waited next to him. We moved to the back door which lead to the brick wall separating the muggle world from Diagon Alley. I pulled out my wand and had Dad help me reach the right bricks to tap. Someday when I was tall enough I wouldn’t need his help. Still I didn’t mind being picked up and soon we were on our way out into the wonderful street that made up all of the Wizarding world to me.

We were half way to the Olivander’s shop and home when we passed a tall blonde woman dragging a small blond boy around with her. She was rather pretty and yet she looked like the little picture that hung around my neck. I hadn’t taken it off this entire time except to wash it as I had a tendency to spill things on my shirt when eating. I pulled out the locket and stopped to compare the woman to the photo. They were clearly not the same person and yet they were very similar despite the woman coming up the street looking far fairer than my mother did in the picture I had. Pulling on Dad’s pants I pointed at the woman then showed him the picture before taking off my headband.

“Excuse me,” said Dad to the Woman as she came up to us. “I’m sorry to bug you but my son wanted to ask you if you are a relative of a Bellatrix Lestrange?”

“I am,” said the tall blonde woman. Her face had contorted as if she had smelt something foul. “If you have some sort of grievance against my sister I would ask you to leave me and my son out of this. She is locked up in Azkaban with all the others of the Dark Lord’s followers.”

“No,” I said. “I…uh…just wanted to know more about my mother.”

The blonde woman seemed taken back by my statement. For a moment she stared at me with the most intense disgust on her face but it soften quickly and she bent down to get a closer look at me. She reached out and grabbed the necklace around my neck and gently flipped it over to look at the crest that laid there. Standing back up, she asked, “Where did you get that necklace?”

“From a vault in Gringots. I got a letter from my mother the first time I visited there,” I explained. “It had a key in it.”

“You must be her son then,” said the woman. “Please if I could get a moment of your time, maybe we could talk over tea. I’m your aunt. My name is Narcissa Malfloy and this is my son, Draco.”

“I’m Julian Webb,” said Dad. “We adopted little Blake here almost nine years ago.”

The four of us headed off to a nearby cafe and Mrs Malfloy bought Draco and I a cup of Cocoa and tea for Dad and herself. Draco seemed quiet and he hadn’t taken his eyes off of me this whole time. He was a bit shorter than I was but more bulky not that he was over weight or anything but had a lean muscle to him that was apparent through the robes he wore. His eyes were sharp like Burke’s were and I couldn’t help but be the slightest bit afraid. Yet he was my cousin and I wanted to get to know him.

“Now Mr. Webb,” said Mrs. Malfloy. “I must thank you for taking care of Blake for such a long time. He must have been a handful for a muggle like yourself. I hope we can reach an agreement so he can spend more time with his blood family.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” said Dad. “Blake has always wanted to know more about his birth parents and I can’t see anyone better to tell him than you if they can’t be in the picture. My partner and I haven’t been able to answer his questions.”

“That is to be expected,” said Mrs. Malfloy. “Blake comes from a long line of wizards and witches of the finest quality. Why I am relatively well to do and my husband is quite influential in the Wizarding world. I would be remiss to not make sure Blake knew of his rich heritage. Maybe would have him come stay with us for a while. Like a week or so?”

“I’m sure we can work something out,” said Dad.

“Mommy, why are you being so nice to the muggle?” asked Draco. “Shouldn’t we take Blake home with us where he can be a proper wizard like Father?”

“Dear, let Mommy deal with this okay,” said Mrs. Malfloy. “I know you mean well but sometimes you lack the tack in such situations.”

“Mommy,” said Draco. “I don’t want some tainted mudblood coming to visit us. He isn’t one of those right? He is like us though, right? Father would want us to teach him how to be a proper wizard. To know whose side he belongs on.”

“I hate to interrupt this but we should get going,” said Dad. “We have people to visit and they are probably wondering where we are by now. Come on Blake.”

I got up to follow him away but I took one look back at Mrs Malfloy and her son. She had a strange look in her eyes that made me shiver. It was good to know I had family but I worried about what they thought was a proper wizard and whether or not that lined up with Papa’s idea of a good wizard. Still I had to look forward to my day with Abigail.

We walked down the street to the small offshoot and worked our way around the buildings to the back door of the Olivander’s shop and home. Abigail opened the door after I knocked my special way. Two hard baps three light taps and then one more bap. She wore a long green dress and had a wonderful wide brimmed witches hat on top her head that matched her dress. Her smile was contagious and I soon had a bright smile on my face. She grabbed me in a hug and pulled me into the house spinning us as we went.

“I’m so happy you made it,” said Abigail. “Come on you have to see my room. I have the perfect place to play house now.”

She dragged me off with her up the stairs and down the winding hall. The paintings watched with some semblance of happiness to them as we passed like even they had accepted her into their family. At least she was loved here. She opened a door that had a piece of parchment stuck to it that read Abigail’s Room. Inside the walls were a pastel pink and the canopy bed had long white drapes made lace. There was plenty of room for us to play together and a doll house sat in one corner of the room that stood nearly as tall as we were. There were a few cloth dolls already set up in it.

“I have two girl dolls and a boy doll,” said Abigail. “Which do you want to play?”

“I don’t know,” I said. I sat down on the bed and looked at the doll house. There was something wrong but I couldn’t place it in my mind. Abigail sat down next to me and we locked eyes. “Sorry.”

“For what? Tell me what happened,” said Abigail.

“I met my aunt. My mom’s sister. My cousin said some things that I think might be bad and I don’t know because she seemed nice but I don’t know,” I said. “She wants me to spend time with them. To learn how to be a proper wizard. I don’t want to be away from Dad and Pa that long. I don’t know why but she scares me.”

“I didn’t want to come live here but it was good,” said Abigail. “I mean I miss mommy but Grandma and Grandpa have been nice and wonderful. Maybe your aunt was just surprised or something.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“So lets have the dolls go on an adventure today,” said Abigail. She hopped off her bed and grabbed the three dolls and I followed her. The rest of the day was spent going on wild adventures in a magical land. A world filled with dragons and ogres of massive size. They had a tea party with a talking tree and slayed a bunch of icky giant spiders that lived in a deep forest. We played for a few hours before the magic got lost on me and I wanted to move on to something else. We turned to my violin. I wasn’t very good still after not even a year of being self taught. Still Abigail gave me all the feedback I needed to keep working on it. Even when it sounded horrible without accompaniment. When it got really bad I would just play something soothing that I made up as I went while Abigail sang with me. We did that today but our melody took a more somber tome to it from the way I made my violin cry.

“Come down for diner,” rang Mrs. Olivander’s voice through the house and the two of us jumped in surprise that her voice had carried that far. Our time together was nearing an end and I didn’t like that. Not at all. 

I hadn’t felt that I had recovered enough to be away from Abigail. There was something about her that kept me feeling safe or at least safer. Like she was a part of me as much as I was her. It had been that way for a while now but it was so much more pronounced now that we didn’t see each other as often. At least both Dad and Pa would be there when Mrs. Olivander dropped me off. The two of them made the absence feel less severe, less painful.

“I could hear your practice, Blake,” said Mrs Olivander as we walked into the kitchen. The smells of pasta and chicken filled the air. I loved Mrs. Olivander’s cooking even if it wasn’t as good as Pa’s. On the tables sat four plates each served with food. Three of them had smaller portions and I knew the big one was for Mr. Olivander. He always ate well though he had a bit of a belly for him. Still he was so happy all the time. “You are getting much better at the violin dear. I hope you keep up with it.”

I nodded as I took a seat next to Abigail. She pulled her long hair back into a pony tail which stayed almost magically there without a band. She had been doing little feats of magic like that more and more now that she lived here. I took my knife and cut the half a chicken breast into smaller pieces and dipped it into the sauce. I was the only one whose chicken was separate from the pasta as I had issues with mixed foods. I couldn’t rightly put it into words. It just wasn’t right and it would make me feel like I needed to throw up. Sandwiches were fine and sauces on things didn’t bug me but I had to have my sandwiches with either cheese or meat not both.

Eating quickly I scooted over to Abigail’s side of the round table and leaned against her as she ate more slowly. My eyes closed and I just listened to her breathing and the subtle sounds of her eating. Of how she chewed and the small gulp that came with each swallow. Her heart beat that was faint compared to the rest. The sounds of Mr. Olivander joining the table and the quite noises of silverware on ceramic. The fading smell of a diner slowly cooling on the stove top. They would be having leftovers though neither Abigail nor myself would have minded that. I could almost hear the way Mrs. Olivander smiled at us when she finished her plate. There was a way with her breath that made me think of smiling.

“Well we should get you home before it gets too dark,” said Mrs. Olivander. “Your dads are expecting you. I figured we would just apperate there unless you don’t think you can stomach that?”

“I’m good,” I said.

“Me too,” said Abigail. “Sorry you can’t stay the night.”

I shrank against her. I had wanted to spend the night and I could feel that she had wanted me to as well. I never slept as well as when we shared a bed, nestled in our arms together. I didn’t really understand why. I hadn’t slept with anyone else in years and sleeping with Michael never left me very rested. I took a deep breathe of her smell and then got out of the chair and waited for us to leave.

“Good night, Blake,” said Mr. Olivander. “See you in two weeks.”

I nodded and took Mrs. Olivander’s hand that she held out to me. I hated the feeling of apperation. It was like my insides were being put through a blender and I was yanked forward as if by my nose. We landed right inside the door of my apartment door and I stumbled around still gripping Mrs Olivander till my stomach settled.

Something was off in the air. I could feel it as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I tightened my grip on Abigail’s had as we walked up the first floor of the apartment. By the time we reached the stairs up to the third floor I could smell something rusty in the air that smelt off. Even Mrs. Olivander seemed on edge as she drew out her wand as we crept up the stairs. There was a silence to the place that seemed unnatural to my ears. Where were the creaks of the building and the small murmur of television sets behind closed doors. Why was there a unique smell of acrid and heavy char that overpowered the musty rust smell? I could tell something was wrong with our door as soon as we rounded the corner to the apartment. The door was just slightly ajar and splinters of wood sat on the floor. I rushed forward pulling Abigail with me and Mrs. Olivander called after us but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t hear anything over the sound of my heart pounding in my head.

The door pushed it self open when I approached and I could see red on the floor at the couch. The smell grew over powering. Something else hung in the air now that smelt foul in a way I couldn’t describe. Worse than anything. A head of us sat a man slumped over someone whose face was all red. A red I knew was blood. The sounds of metal hitting something with a slight give to it filled the air and the man stood up. He turned around and I froze. His eyes were black with no sense of white in them. The front of his shirt was covered in blood and there was a twitchy smile on his face. It turned hard as he saw us. He rushed forward the knife in his hand that still dripped with blood raised up in a backhand grip. I froze. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.

“Stupefy,” shouted Mrs. Olivander. 

A read beam of light shot at the bloody man freezing him in a contortion of rage. He fell to the ground a moment later the knife still held tightly in his hand. I could see freely that on the far side of the room sat Pa with blood staining his shirt and a red line running down his face from a small burnt hole in his forehead. The wall behind him was splattered with read and pink and his head leaned down revealing just the smallest amount of bone sticking out of the top of what I could see. I still couldn’t breathe. My heart had stopped and yet I couldn’t break eye contact with Pa and his lifeless horror filled eyes. All I could see was that fear. That glossiness to his eyes. There was nothing else. Nothing at all. Just death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I want to put this here. This fic is heavily inspired by other fics I have read and short snipbits I have read else where. This will mean some major divergences from cannon as the story goes on but I will try to keep it all believable.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Child abuse happens a lot in this chapter. Oh and the use of the 'R' word. so yeah.
> 
> Also there is missing information due to perspective change which I hope will be understandable to all readers. The story will eventually return to the perspective of Blake but for this chapter and the one following Blake is not really there enough to be the perspective character. Also I realize that the following might seem a bit out of character for Draco but bullies are normally the product of some sort of trauma or otherwise bad situations and I wanted to show both the inner world of Draco as well as why he might turn out like he did in Cannon. That said Draco will be one of the first divergences with Cannon in this story well outside of Blake.

Draco Malfloy

Draco didn’t understand when his mother had stopped to talk to the muggle boy the previous day. Why would she talk to someone so beneath them? Yet they had been nice and there was something about the boy that stuck with him. Like they had known each other for a long time and yet Draco couldn’t place him anywhere. It was the boys wild eyes that stayed in his mind. His brain wouldn’t stop wondering why this supposed cousin of his had sparked his interest. He had other cousins but none like this and they were all older than him. All so very adult and Draco wanted nothing to do with them. Not really at least. Sure they would at times give him chocolate but if he was honest he wanted something more than just chocolate.

Then this morning his mom woke him with a cheery look on her face and had him come down for breakfast. Dobby had made his fathers favorite again. For the third day in a row. Draco hated eggs Benedict. The runny eggs was just not for him but he ate in silence. Father would be very cross with him if he didn’t. Not that Father was there this morning or the prior two for that matter. Father seemed extra busy this weekend which on one hand suited Draco nicely. Quite time to fly his broom that he wished so very much he was better at. Still he was better than the Crabbe and Goyle boys who came to play regularly. On the other hand he did miss his Father very much as the man was very busy and never had time for him. Not unless it meant Draco had earned his wrath. He had perfected his penmanship just for that reason. At least Father would respond to him in letter form. He wrote weekly reports on what went on during that week. Father expected of him to not leave out any detail about what him or Mommy had been up to that week. The last time Draco had left something out Father had gotten very cross. It had hurt to sit for a week.

As he sat in the drawing room waiting for it to be his free time and to get away from his school work that he had finished long ago, Mommy came in dragging the boy from the other day. There was something different about the pale skinned boy. His eyes seemed dead and he hung his arm lifelessly from Mommy’s hand. The boy, Blake if Draco remembered correctly, wore a set of Draco’s robes that were clearly ill fitting on him. The boy was a bit taller than Draco and yet all the clothes were baggy on the boy.

“Draco dear, your cousin has come to live with us. I know you will be very nice to him,” said Mommy. “I want you to look after him and make sure he does as he is supposed to. Make sure he is a proper little boy okay?”

“Yes, Mommy,” said Draco with out a sense of the annoyance that Draco felt. Why did he have to baby sit the muggle? Or was he a wizard? He didn’t look like one anymore and the boy was Draco’s cousin. Surely that meant the boy was a wizard just like Draco. “Mommy, can I still go out and practice on my broom?”

“As long as you keep an eye on Hydra,” said Mommy. “And don’t ask the house elf to do it. It is busy with its chores.”

“Yes Mommy,” said Draco. At least his afternoon wasn’t ruined yet and a second person to fly with would be fun. Even if the boy, whose name was now confusing to Draco, didn’t rightly know how to fly. Draco could fix that and it would be fun to be better than the boy.

“Good boy, Draco,” said Mommy. “Now Hydra listen to your cousin. I will be busy so I expect no interruptions from either of you for the time being.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“I love you, Draco. You two Hydra.”

With that Mommy left the room leaving Hydra, or was it Blake, alone with Draco. Getting up, Draco left his work on the desk, Dobby would clean it up latter for him and it wasn’t as if this room wasn’t his room. Mommy and Father ever came in here except when they were cross with Draco or needed something from him. Draco walked to the door and turned to the boy who hadn’t moved at all since Mommy had left him with Draco.

“Well come on,” said Draco. “The weather is nice. Don’t you want to go fly a broom with me?”

The boy didn’t say anything.

“Come on now. I know you can speak.”

Still the boy didn’t talk. Draco sighed annoyed by the boys continued ignoring of Draco. He walked over to the boy and shook him. Maybe it was a bit too hard but that was what Father did when Draco didn’t listen. Not that Draco would ever not listen.

“What is wrong with you? Well fine if you won’t listen I will just have to drag you. I am not going to miss out on flying because of some muggle thing.”

Draco took the boys hand as much as he despised holding peoples hands and drug him to the door. The boy didn’t resist and kept up with Draco easily. Sighing Draco lead the boy down the hall, a set of stairs and out the door to the back yard of the Manor. There was a sitting area that he lead the boy to and left him there while he went to the shed hidden behind a set of bushes to retrieve his broom. Draco hated the bushes as they would often get snagged in his clothes and every once in a while if Draco was in a hurry it would rip his clothes. Mommy got very cross when ever that happened though thankfully Dobby could fix the clothes before Mommy would know. Draco with his exciting Nimbus in his hands looked back at the boy who hadn’t moved again. Draco sighed and got onto his broom commanding it mentally to take to the sky. Draco never went far from the ground but he liked the speed that he could get with his broom. He could only go so fast so far though before he had to turn and he slowed for the turn. He hated he have to do that while all the players he had seen could speed into their turns. He looked back at the boy who still hadn’t moved. Was there something wrong with the boy? Draco didn’t care or at least that is what he told himself.

Flying proved to not be as much fun as Draco had thought it would be that day. Something was wrong and he knew it had to do with the boy. The boy hadn’t moved except to breath the whole time Draco flew. That was at least a whole hour as Dobby had come to get the two of them not too long after he had started flying. He had spent the whole time trying to go faster in his turns but he still didn’t have the courage to go as fast as he wanted to. Still after every pass Draco would look at the boy and see him unmoving, like one of the statues that sat out front of the Manor. Dobby had come to get them to wash up for supper. 

“Master Draco, so good of you to come whens Dobby is asking,” said Dobby. 

The small house elf stood just a head shorter than Draco himself and wore a clean smock made of what once was a bag of flower. The elf smiled at him as Draco hurried over to him and the smile made the elves large ears and wrinkled face look all the more inhuman. Dobby was the best elf and obviously not like other elves as other elves were so far beneath Draco. They were not as smart as Dobby was, even if Dobby spoke a little weird. Father talked about how useless elves were and how much they needed discipline, much like how Draco needed discipline, yet Draco didn’t really understand why. Dobby did so much work it made sense to Draco that he would make mistakes from time to time. Why Draco made more mistakes than Dobby ever did and yet Dobby made Father far more cross than Draco did.

“Dobby, do you know what is wrong with Bla-Hydra?” asked Draco. “He just stood there for the whole time I flew.”

“Dobby is thinking that the young master has a broken heart and that is hurting his brain,” said Dobby. “But Dobby is not knowing. Come Master Draco, Master is home tonight and he is already cross we’s not wanting to make him more.”

“Yes, lets go,” said Draco. “Dobby hold Hyrda’s hand and bring him with. He will follow you fine.”

“Yes Master Draco.”

Draco walked up to his room and Dobby followed at a decent pace behind him, like a proper elf should. Draco stripped his robes off and walked into the shower. Father wanted him clean after every flying session and Draco liked the feel of the hot water running down his body. When Draco came out of his quick shower he watched as Dobby was washing the boy. Dobby had gotten him to sit in Draco’s rocking chair. There was a bit of anger with that. Dobby should have known not to use that chair. It was special. Not that Draco really could place why and he shook his head. It was no use being angry at Dobby right before diner. Father would be cross at him if he wasn’t happy. Slipping into a new robes Draco ran a come through his blond hair and then walked over to the boy and ran the comb through his unruly black hair. There wasn’t much Draco could do for it but at least wet the hair looked a bit less ragged. The three of them walked back down to the dining room and Draco grabbed his seat. Where was the boy suppose to sit. Draco put the boy across from himself and then returned to his own seat. Mommy came in a few minutes later and then Father. Food came out almost instantly afterward with Dobby placing Father’s meal first and then Mothers before getting Draco’s and the boys plate. The meal was a stir fry mix of vegetables and chick over rice with a side of orange pieces. Draco waited for Father to take a bite before he dug in hoping that Father wouldn’t spend a while talking first before food. Thankfully he only nodded to the family be fore digging in. Draco dug in and ate rather quickly. It was always best to be done before Father which wasn’t the hardest thing to do. It would let Draco sneak away from the table before any talks of how the day went. Glancing over Draco noticed that the boy hadn’t started eating.

“So this is the brat you told me about?” said Father curtly. “I see the resemblance to your sister. I’m glad those muggles let you take him.”

Tears started to run down Hyrda’s face. Draco gulped seeing this. Father hated it when people cried. Said only the weak cried and no son of his was weak. Hoping that Father would never know Draco would often cry himself to sleep after one of Father’s punishments. He never let anyone know and Dobby was sure to keep Father busy for Draco when such things happened. Even when that meant getting into trouble himself. Father’s face contorted and Draco glanced to Mommy as if she might deflect what was coming. She never did but then again Hydra wasn’t a Malfloy maybe he could be allowed to be weak.

“Why are you crying boy?” said Father.

The boy didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at father. Draco tried his best to look as if nothing was happening even though his heart raced and sweat formed on his brow. Draco eyed the boy pleading him to answer to open his mouth and at least say something. Anything.

“You will answer me boy,” said Father anger obviously in his voice. Draco sat with his hands in his lap looking down. The world had slowed to him and he didn’t want to hear what was coming next. “Answer Me.”

The boy didn’t even move. His tears were rolling down his face even more and if it weren’t for that Draco would have thought the boy was dead. The shouting had caused a trembling in Draco that he fought to stop. Surely the boy would do something now. Father was about to hit him. Father stood up and moved down the table.

“Lucious, he is still in shock,” said Mommy.

“Stay out of this, woman,” said Father sternly and overly loud. “He will answer his betters when talked to. I won’t have some mannerless git breathing the same air as I do. Not under my roof. Now boy answer me.”

The boy stayed still and didn’t speak. Thwack. His head flew as father slapped him upside the head and he fell out of the chair. Draco couldn’t see him get back up and he worried that father had knocked him out. Surely he hadn’t been hit that hard. There was a faint look of shock in Father’s eyes for a moment but it passed as soon as Draco noticed it.

“Elf, take the damn boy to his room,” shouted Father. Dobby appeared with a crack and started picking up Hydra off the floor. Father returned to his seat and pushed his meal away from him. “Great now I am not hungry. Why the fuck did you bring that boy here?”

“He is Bella’s son. I can’t leave him in an orphanage,” said Mommy softly. “I will beat some manners into the boy. Don’t worry my love.”

“You had better.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three days and Hydra had six new bruises on him and he hadn’t spoke a word. Draco wasn’t certain he had a mind left. The poor boy hadn’t moved on his own as far as Draco could tell. There was a shout in the night that must have been Hydra but Draco had let Dobby deal with that and the punishment that would have been dolled out for waking Father. It had only happened once as far as Draco knew but Dobby may have put some sort of silence spell on Hydra’s room. It was better than hearing Father shout for an hour in the middle of the night. Mommy and Father were still fighting over what to do with Hydra.

Draco rubbed the new bruise on his arm where Father had gripped it too hard. It wasn’t anything special and it would be gone in a few days. He just had to wear long sleeves till then. Like he always did. Father was thankfully out today on business which had left the Manor quiet in the ways that Draco craved. If only Hydra hadn’t been so quiet though, then Draco wouldn’t have had this new bruise. Father wouldn’t have been so cross. Still seeing the swollen eye the day after of Hydra had been particularly potent on Draco. He never had seen such an injury before. He had had one but seeing it on someone else and not in the mirror was something else. Something harsher.

Even Mommy had gotten angry at Hydra. She had bags under her eyes that would disappear before Father came home but around Draco she didn’t bother to cover them up with make-up. She had shouted at Draco’s tutor yesterday about how useless he had been in improving Draco’s schooling. Draco knew it was fair. The git had been as useless as the last one. It wasn’t his fault that schooling was hard for Draco. Not at all. Still Mommy had been angry with Draco enough that it was clear something had to be done. So Draco had kept Hydra from Mommy as much as he could. It was rather annoying having to drag the brainless git around with him but it wasn’t as if Hydra complained. He didn’t even cry when Draco slapped him. There was just nothing there.

A dark spotted owl had shown up right after lunch and perched on top of Hydra’s head. Even this hadn’t brought the boy to act and Draco found the image rather funny so he let the owl sit there for a while. At least as an owl rest he was being useful to someone. A small envelope was tied to owls leg and after a while Draco took of the letter and opened it. It was for Bla-Hydra from someone named Michael.

“Dear Blake,

I’m so sorry I can’t protect you. Papa says there isn’t anything he can do that those people who took you have a right to you. I don’t understand. I am taking a week off from school. Papa offered more but I can’t take it. Too much work here. Staying with the Olivander’s has been saddening. Abigail wasn’t speaking at all and I know she needs you but I don’t know how to get you here. I wrote a letter requesting to see you to Mr. Malfloy but I got a response telling me to leave you alone. I love you and I will get you back. I promise.

Love,

Michael”

Draco looked up from reading the mail out loud. The hand writing was horrid and tears had stained the paper. Still for the first time ever Hydra had done something. He was staring at the letter and Draco didn’t really understand what was going on. There were tears forming on Hydra’s face and Draco got up and paced. What was he supposed to do? It was a good thing that Hydra had moved on his own and yet his eyes were still lifeless. Draco almost felt uncomfortable being in the same area as Hydra. Something in the way he stared at the letter that Draco had left on the outdoor table.

“Dobby,” shouted Draco. There was a pop and Dobby appeared next to him. There was a set of burns on the back of the elf’s hands and Draco did his best to ignore them. It didn’t help to worry about them. After all if Dobby hadn’t made Father cross they wouldn’t be there. “Dobby I want you to take Hydra to his room. See if you can get him to eat. He hasn’t eaten yet has he?”

“No, He hasn’t,” said Dobby softly and with sadness in his voice. “Dobby is worried. Dobby worries that Master Hydra will die. That Master Hydra has already died.”

“Dobby what is it like to die?” asked Draco. “What is it like for him?”

“Dobby does not know, Master,” said the elf. “Does Master wish for Dobby to punish himself for being useless?”

“No. Take Hydra away and see if he will eat anything.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco had never been to St. Mungo’s before. A doctor had always come to him before and yet here he was with Mommy and Hydra in tow. Hydra could barely walk and would fall over easily when he tried. Dobby had said he hadn’t eaten at all yet and Mommy had grown so worried that she was bringing them to the hospital even though Father would be cross with them.

The place had large open front room which they had taken the floo to get to. Other wizards and witches sat around waiting to be helped but as a Malfloy expected they didn’t have to wait at all. Instead they were ushered out of the sterile room and down a hallway to an elevator. Up they went to the fourth floor. Draco didn’t like this floor much at all. Strange noises emanated from the rooms on either side of the long hallway and the place just felt off and cold. Still Mother walked on carrying Hydra in a spell and following the Healer who lead the way. The Hall way had paintings all along it that moved and made scenes much like they did at home at the Manor. Draco paid them no heed. Down they went to a ward near the end of the hall.

Inside was a number of beds with other children in it. Some were noisy and others deathly quiet staring at them as they came in. But it wasn’t like it should be. People should have adoration when they stared at a Malfloy and yet it was some sort of fear in their eyes. Draco shook his head and turned back to the healer doing his best to put on an air that nothing bothered him. After all all that mattered was that everyone thought that you were untouchable or at least Draco thought so.

“It is good you brought him in when you did,” said the Healer. “We will get some liquids into him and a replenishing potion will help bring him out of this stupor. I’d recommend keeping him here for at least a day. Just to make sure it works. Afterward you can always administer the potion yourself.”

“Yes,” said Mommy. “If it is alright I want to stay for a bit. Just make sure he is comfortable.”

Mommy was acting weird. Draco never saw her cry and yet he could see the tears forming in her eyes. Something was wrong. Why did she care about this broken boy? Yet didn’t Draco care about this broken boy? He wasn’t certain. Not at all. Mommy conjured a chair for the both of them and they sat in silence waiting. The curtain was pulled back around them blocking out the noise of the rest of the ward and Draco felt much more comfortable not having to see those other children. He could slouch a little if he liked.

It must have been two whole hours sitting there in the quiet with Mommy whipping her eyes ever minute or so. Draco wanted very much to leave. He was missing his flying time. Still there was something about Mommy that held his tongue. His eyes however sent daggers at Hydra who hadn’t moved. Why was he so broken? This was a waste of time and Mommy should have known that. Father wasn’t going to be happy and Draco didn’t really want to deal with what that meant tonight not after such a boring day.

“Come Draco. We should get home before your Father returns for the day,” said Mommy. She got out of the chair and waited just a few seconds for Draco to hop out of his before vanishing the two chairs. The two of them left the broken boy in his bed and as Draco looked back at Hydra from the door he couldn’t help his worry over the fact that the boy didn’t even seem to have noticed that they were leaving.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Father had been very cross that Mommy had taken Hydra to St. Mungo’s and the two of them had fought for most of the night. It had ended rather abruptly when Father slapped her and she stormed off to her separate room. Draco had managed to stay out of sight for most of it and managed to make it to bed with no incident of his own. If Mommy had only not done what she had everything would have been fine. Still Draco didn’t like to see the tears in her eyes as she came to tuck him in.

The next day they had returned to St. Mungo’s to pick up Hydra. There was something different about him already. His head hung down and there was the slightest hint of life in his eyes again. The healer said there was two potions they should give him a day and that if he continued to refuse to eat they should force him to take a third potion. Hydra followed them with out having to have his hand held and Draco was happy for that as he rather not have had to do so. Hopefully this would mean things would settle down at home even if they still had this new boy that had ruined everything.

Hydra sat and stared at the ground as Draco flew that day. Draco didn’t feel the need as much to check on him as he sat there and there was something freeing at that. Yet now that Hydra was actually acting on his own there was something that nagged at Draco’s heart. What had happened to the kid that he was like this? He hadn’t been like this the day Draco had met Hydra and the difference was stark and when Draco was being honest startling. Still Draco did his best to not let Hydra’s mood ruin his and he flew for two hours before Dobby came to get them to get ready for diner.

Hydra caused another scene by not talking again and father had sent him to bed without food. Draco sighed at the wrong time when Hydra had gotten out of the room and another argument erupted between Mommy and Father. It spilled over to Draco’s poor performances in his schooling and Father started to yell at both of them. There was a crash in the room next to them. Dobby had dropped the nights dessert. Father had him punished but it had given Draco the opportunity to sneak away to his bedroom where he got ready for bed and could avoid Father’s wrath for the time being.

The next morning Mommy had set Draco a set of things to do and left the house when Father did. A day left alone with Hydra and Dobby. Draco knew better than to not do the things Mommy had left out for them and yet he couldn’t help but feel dread when it came to Hydra. Draco had to get him to do the homework as well as actually get him to talk both of which seemed utterly impossible. The homework had turned out to be easy enough as Hydra worked diligently next to Draco and got done much sooner than Draco did. For a moment Draco considered copping from him but clearly the boy didn’t really know what he was doing since he got done so fast. Getting Hydra to speak however proved impossible. He had taken Hydra to the day room and had hoped that maybe he could get him to speak.

“Are you even in there?” asked Draco.

Hydra didn’t speak. He didn’t even look at Draco. Draco sighed and considered just going outside to fly his broom. It would be much more fun than this and it wasn’t like the boy was going to speak to Draco if he didn’t speak to Father. This would just end in another argument today and Draco’s anger boiled in him.

“Why the bloody hell won’t you speak?” asked Draco. “Do you know how much pain you are causing me? I wish you had never came here.”

Hydra still didn’t say anything but he looked up at Draco. There were tears in his eyes and it only spurred Draco’s anger. Boys didn’t cry. Not ever. And here was Hydra crying over Draco in a way that just made him look even more helpless and pathetic.

“Don’t cry. Boys aren’t supposed to cry,” shouted Draco. “Do you want Father to hit you again?”

Draco’s words only made Hydra cry more. Draco walked up to the taller boy and shook him. Why won’t he stop crying? Didn’t he know what would happen? Why did it hurt to watch him cry? Draco dropped him and walked away. There were tears forming in his own eyes and he did his best to fight them. He wouldn’t cry over some git who didn’t understand how to be a proper boy. Shaking his fist clenched and the tears ran free. A pair of arms wrapped around Draco and at first he struggled against them but they felt comforting in a way that Draco hadn’t felt in so long. It reminded him of how Mommy used to hold him when he fell and hurt himself. Of how safe he felt in that hug. He didn’t fight against the hug anymore and sat there letting his tears out. How long had it been since he had been held? Draco couldn’t remember. Why did that hurt? It shouldn’t have and yet it did. Leaning into Hydra the two sat there for a while both crying.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another owl had shown up with a letter for Hydra from Michael. Draco almost didn’t want to read it to him worried that Hydra might go back into his stupor. Yet Dobby had been getting the boy to take his potions every day just fine and so Draco decided it was worth the risk In case it got Hydra to speak. Then things would be great. Father wouldn’t get mad anymore and everything could go back to the way it was supposed to.

“Dear Blake,

I am headed back to school now. I wanted to let you know where you can contact me when you are feeling up to writing me a letter. Diana should know where I am anyway but it felt bad to not tell you. Papa said he is doing his best to work out a way we can see each other. I would really like that. I miss them so much. I know you must too. Abigail is finally speaking again and Mrs. Olivander told me what you saw. Blake I love you so much. I’m so sorry. This shouldn’t have happened. I just I can’t. I don’t know. Sorry. I will still send you letters every week and maybe more often we will see.

With Love,

Michael”

Draco looked up to Hydra who had indeed frozen up and was staring blankly at the letter. Draco sat next to him waiting and hoping that he hadn’t just sent the boy back into his shell anymore. After a moment Hydra slumped over onto Draco and the two of them sat in the backyard for a while. Why did he feel like he had to stay here? Like it was his fault that Hydra was broken? Yet Draco knew he couldn’t leave him there. It just would be wrong. Maybe he shouldn’t have read Michael’s letter to Hydra. It might have been better that way. Then there would be none of this touchiness that Draco really didn’t want to admit that he liked. Yet here he was sitting with him and letting him lean on him like he was some sort of woman. On the other hand Draco was the strong one now and that suited him just fine. He was clearly the better if Hydra relied on him. Clearly. So it was that they sat there for twenty minutes before Hydra had his eyes dry.

After he felt like he could leave Hydra on his own, Draco flew for a while. This time though there was a tad bit more pride in his flight as every time he turned to look Hydra watched with mild interest on his face. It was the most happy the boy had looked in a while and Draco worked on the few tricks he could do at this point. Like a loop which was rather scary for Draco but he pulled it off with out falling off his broom. Hydra had even clapped a bit for that and so they did that for a while till Dobby came to collect them for diner again.

Father was fuming when he came home from what ever he did for work. Even Mommy ate her food in silence that night as if that would avoid the explosion that was certain to come. Hydra was actually eating for once and Draco hoped that would be enough to keep Father from exploding out on either of them. The way Father kept looking at Hydra though made it obvious that it hadn’t had the effect Draco had hoped for.

“What do you say to your Aunt for letting you live with us?” asked Father his voice already angry.

Hydra didn’t speak but his eyes met with Mommy’s for a moment and that seemed like such an accomplishment for Hydra that Draco didn’t see what came next. After that moment Hydra went back to eating and Father looked livid. Draco put his fork down and pleaded silently with Hydra that he would at least say something. Anything. Father would not go after him then. Yet the boy sat as quiet as ever.

“You will show proper respect to your betters,” said Father. “That means speaking when spoken to. I won’t have none of this defiance boy.”

“Lucious he hasn’t spoken even once since we got him,” said Mommy. She shouldn’t have and Draco braced himself for the shouting to start.

“What is he? Retarded?” shouted Father. “You will bloody fucking listen to my commands, boy. Do you understand?”

Hydra made the barest nod to this and Draco for a moment felt very proud that he had managed even that. It wasn’t enough though. Not for Father. Draco gripped his chair and looked down when Father hopped out of his own chair and moved quickly to where Hydra sat.

“Lucious, please. He is just a bit addled in the head,” said Mommy.

“I don’t care if his tongue has been cut out,” shouted Father. “The boy will show some sense of decency to me. If I have to beat respect into him I will. Now boy look at me.”

Hydra turned to look at Father. Draco couldn’t breathe and tried to look away but his muscles had stopped working. Hydra’s eyes were loosing any semblance of life they had had and Draco braced himself for what was coming. The slap sent Hydra’s head into the table with a thunk that sounded sickly to Draco. Hydra righted himself though even though some blood ran down the side of his head.

“Now speak,” shouted Father. “Apologize for your insolence.”

Hydra only looked up at father tears in his eyes. Draco braced for the second slap but it didn’t prepare him for what Father did. Father lifted Hydra off the chair and up into the dimness of the ceiling. Hydra sat there limply as Father held him by the neck. Thunk. Father slammed Hydra into the wall and let him fall from Father’s grip.

“Lucious please that is enough,” said Mommy quietly. “We wouldn’t want anyone to know about this. Can’t put him in the hospital.”

“Keep him out of my presence till he learns some respect then woman,” shouted Father. There was a pop and Father disappeared.

Draco moved faster than Mommy and made it over to Hydra. For a moment Draco hesitated to touch Hydra but then he pulled him up off the floor. It hadn’t struck Draco till then just how little Hydra weighed. Like he was some sort of baby which he was thought Draco. Weak and helpless like an infant. But instead of disgust like Draco thought he should feel it was pity and something else that ate at him. Something that Draco really didn’t like dwelling on and yet it wouldn’t go away. Why did he care what happened to his cousin? The boy was obviously broken beyond repair and that should have made Draco hate him. But it didn’t.

Mommy’s wand cleared up the blood and stopped the head injury from oozing any more. Draco picked up the other boy and walked him off to his bed Mommy following closely. They didn’t talk for the whole long walk to Hydra’s room. Draco set Hydra down on his bed and Mommy wrapped him up in a blanket.

“Draco, I want you to take care of your cousin for me,” said Mommy. “Try to make him happy again. Just keep him out of the way of your father.”

“Yes, Mommy,” said Draco. He sat down on the edge of the bed and intending to wait till Hydra fell asleep.

“You are such a good boy, Draco. Mommy is very proud of you,” said Mommy. “You are so gentle with him. I think he needs that.”

“Thank you, Mommy,” said Draco. Yes he would be gentle with Hydra. Keep him safe and healthy and out of the way of Father. It wouldn’t do otherwise. Hydra needed him and that in a strange way felt good to Draco. He had never been needed before. Only ever a bother for his Mommy and Father. But here he was important to someone. Sure they couldn’t speak and they were a little daft in the head but Hydra was his responsibility now.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: More child abuse and more use of the "R" word. cause you know some characters are...evil...yeah that is the word...evil.

Draco

There was a knock on the door. Visitors were not the oddest things on a Saturday but they were always expected. This wasn’t. Draco hid on the second floor landing with Hydra right behind him. After all all of the recent surprises had been because of his cousin, it made sense this one would be as well. The greatest of surprises though was seeing the bearded man that was behind the door when Dobby answered it. Draco had seen this man before on the chocolate frog cards that he would sometimes get at holidays. Albus Dumbledore had an aura to him that Draco hadn’t expected. Somehow he seemed wiser in person than on his chocolate frog card. Not being able to hear from the distance but not needing to, Draco watched as Dobby disappeared to go retrieve Father.

Father came out of his office looking rather peeved that anyone had dared visit this early in the morning. Sure he was likely to be awake but it seemed rather presumptive of someone to show up unannounced so early. Clearly Father thought the same though he didn’t look like he was about to shout.

Some form of pleasantries were exchanged as Father welcomed Professor Dumbledore into the house. Then Father turned and headed up the stairs. Panicking Draco turned to move dragging Hydra with him. Father would not be alright with them having spied on the front door. It wasn’t as if there was going to be much hiding it at this point but still would be better to be some distance away. Getting as far as they could, Draco paused and pulled Hydra back around and started to slowly walk back towards the landing. Father came around the bend in the hall right then and Draco couldn’t read his face. They hadn’t managed to avoid detection.

“Come Draco, our visitor is here to visit that useless lump of flesh. You will make sure he keeps his silence,” said Father. “Afterward we will talk about spying again.”

“Yes Father,” said Draco. He half walked half marched Hydra past Father. Why did this odd Professor want to see Hydra? Maybe he would take Hydra away and then things could go back to normal again. Draco wasn’t certain he really wanted that though. He would be getting more sleep that was for certain.

Draco led Hydra down the stairs. Stairs were always tricky with Hydra, even on days where the boy was more there. Today was clearly not one of his better as he would trip of the stairs a few times until he got a steady rhythm for them. Draco had to make sure he didn’t fall down them as the two went. More bruises wouldn’t do. So it was with some amount of caution that Draco lead Hydra down the stairs.

“Hello,” said Dumbledore. “You must be Draco.”

“Yes,” said Draco. Hydra left his hand and collided with Dumbledore. “Uh sorry. He doesn’t always have the best manners.”

“Oh it is quite alright,” said Dumbledore. “I missed you to, Blake.”

Hydra was obviously crying into the old mans robes. Dumbledore gently patted Hydra’s back and stoically held the poor boy. After a bit with Hydra showing no signs of slowing his tears, Dumbledore leaned down to pick him up.

“Draco is there a sitting room, or the like, that we might use for a while?” asked Dumbledore.

“Oh yes,” said Draco. “Right this way.”

Draco lead them off from the entry way and down a hallway there a room rarely used that Draco knew that Father wouldn’t mind having been used for this. Opening the room he held open the door and let Dumbledore into the room. There was a pair of poofy chairs and a fireplace kept perpetually lit. Dobby kept this room as immaculate as any of the others and Draco had no need to worry about dust or anything of the sort.

“This will do nicely,” said Dumbledore. “Would you care to sit with us for a while?”

“Okay,” said Draco. He looked at the old man wondering why such an important person would know his cousin. Sure Dumbledore was always badmouthed by Father but he was on a chocolate frog card and not Father. Besides Father bad mouthed many people, including Mommy, so Father’s words seemed to have less impact on Draco than he thought that maybe they should have. Father was always right, wasn’t he?

“Blake, my boy, I sadly do not have as much time for this visit as I would want,” said Dumbledore. “I have come to make sure you were alright. Or well as best as one can be considering.”

“Do you know what is wrong with him?” asked Draco. “He hasn’t talked at all in the two weeks he has been here.”

“That answer is two fold. First off Blake is Autistic, or at least that is what Muggles call his condition,” said Dumbledore. “It means that he thinks differently, though not lesser so, than what you or I might consider normal. There isn’t really anything wrong with him at least normally there wouldn’t be. No there is a second problem that is much more likely the cause of Blake’s silence. His adoptive fathers were killed recently. A not so simple cause of grief.”

It hit Draco like falling from a broom. Hydra had lost his parents. The thought of loosing Mommy scared Draco so much he couldn’t help the cold sweat running down his back. It was incomprehensible to him and the thought of it threatened to bring tears to his eyes and Draco was not going to have that in front of such an important person. Father would be utterly horrified at the thought of it. So instead he pushed the thought away as best he could and sat as still as he could as if any movement would let the thoughts break free and spill out of his eyes.

“Is there anyway I can help fix him?” asked Draco. “It would be best if he were able to speak again. Things would be easier here if he would.”

“Blake has had these episodes of non-verbalness for a long while,” said Dumbledore. “There is only one thing that can be done and that is to keep him calm and feeling safe. He will talk when he is ready.”

Draco only nodded. Keeping him feeling safe would be hard. Draco rarely felt safe here and he could only imagine how Hydra felt. Still it was just one more thing to add to the list and it wasn’t as if Draco wasn’t already doing his best to keep Hydra safe.

The rest of the time was spent with Dumbledore talking about every which thing under the sun. From Hogwarts to the orchestra Dumbledore went and saw over the summer. Hydra had a bit of life in his eyes and seemed to be listening instead of zoning out which was an improvement over this morning. Dumbledore ended the visit by giving Hydra an object that impossibly fit in Dumbledore’s bag, a violin case. Hydra looked almost completely alive for a moment as he hugged the case.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hydra had only gotten worse after Dumbledore visited. The boy seemed to be a ghost in a flesh suit most of the time instead of a living human being as he stumbled around. He seemed to be falling asleep all the time as well though when he did there came the screams. The dark bags under Hydra’s eyes had only gotten worse over the last few days. The daily potions weren’t working as well as they had been and Draco was more than a little afraid that he was going to be scolded by Mommy for failing to take care of Hydra and worse yet that when they had to take him to the hospital that Father would be cross again.

Clearly Hydra wasn’t sleeping at night anymore. Maybe he was having all sorts of fun when no one was watching him. Hmmph. Draco would have none of that. So it was that Draco decided to spy on Hydra that night. What was one sleepless night for saving all that potential trouble.

Draco fought against the sleep when he went bed and sat there for a while staring at the canopy in his bed. Had it been long enough that Draco could sneak out of bed and check what Hydra was up to? It was so hard to tell considering the lack of a clock in the room. Maybe he could fix that sometime soon. Still it had to have been time. So Draco got out of bed and headed out of his room.

He crept along the hall doing his best to keep quiet and thankfully he knew where all the squeaky parts of the floors and could avoid them or at least get over them with out too much noise. Hydra’s room was closest to Draco’s, having been a guest room and one of the smaller ones. As Draco rounded the corner he spotted Dobby standing outside of the room pacing back and forth. It wasn’t uncommon for the house elf to be up latter than anyone else but normally he would be busy with what ever chore was still not done and not pacing outside of a room looking like he might be hiding something.

“Dobby,” spat Draco in a quite voice just above a whisper. “Dobby. Get over here.”

“Oh Master Draco,” said Dobby as he walked over to Draco. “You surprise Dobby. You should not be ups walking the halls. What if Master found you?”

“What are you hiding? What is up with Hydra?” asked Draco.

“Oh Dobby is not hiding anything save for the young master’s nightmares,” said Dobby. “Dobby is just worried is all. Master Hydra has not been sleeping much and Dobby doesn’t know how to help.”

“Leave it to me okay?”

“Yes Master Draco.”

“Can you keep it quiet though? I don’t want to wake Mommy or Father.”

“Dobby shall.”

Draco nodded and walked quietly over to the door. Pressing his ear to the door he didn’t hear anything and so risked cracking open the door. This one didn’t squeak so he wasn’t worried about that but it was more that he didn’t want to startle Hydra or even if possible not let Hydra know he was here. Peaking through the crack he saw the other boy in bed and seemingly sleeping. If he was sleeping why as he so tired all the time? Draco slipped into the room and quietly closed it behind him. It was too dark to see much in the room and he had to blink a few times for his eyes to adjust. As Draco got closer he noticed that Hydra did not seem to be sleeping peacefully. His face was scrunched up and ever once in a while he would flop over in what seemed like a fit. Not wanting to disturb this Draco stood at the edge of the queen sized bed and waited.

Hydra screamed shortly there after which scared Draco not only from the suddenness but of just how horrified the boy seemed. Draco reached out and grabbed the thrashing boy that was fighting with the blanket he had gotten wrapped up in. Hydra was whimpering and panting with effort. Draco shook him a bit trying to get him to wake all the way and notice that it was Draco he was fighting against and not some monster.

“Hydra, Hydra,” called Draco quietly. “Hydra it is me, Draco. Come on now I won’t hurt you.”

Draco’s words seemed to help as Hydra suddenly wrapped his arms around Draco and sobbed gently into Draco’s shoulder. Not seeing a good way out of this Draco pulled himself up onto the bed and sat with Hydra still attached to him. It was awkward to Draco to be in bed with another and yet what was he going to do. Clearly Hydra was in no shape to be left alone. So Draco sat with the boy wrapped around his midsection and waited for him to calm down and maybe go back to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco’s days had gotten weird. He still had his own responsibilities to attend to all the while trying to keep Hydra as happy as was possible. Now that the both of them weren’t sleeping through the night. It had turned out that Hydra had these nightmares every night and that it had proved more easy to have Hydra sleep in Draco’s bed than Draco having to sneak over to his room every night. The nightmares keep the two of them from getting a full nights rest but it seemed that Hydra was going back to sleep easier and not having them repeat as often. Still it was making it more hard for Draco to function than just taking care of Hydra. Draco had stopped riding his broom in favor of attempting to get a nap in. Draco found he could get some rest in but Hydra was starting to have nightmares even in the nap the two of them took and Draco was at his limit on figuring out what to do.

So it was that he drafted to letters to send to Dumbledore and Michael hoping that either of them would have an answer to his problems. Diana seemed more than happy to take the messages to them and Draco breathed a sigh of relief when the Hawk owl of his Fathers failed to catch her. Father was the last person Draco wanted to know about him messaging a muggle born or Dumbledore.

It only took a couple of days to get a response from both Michael and Dumbledore. Not wanting to burden Hydra more Draco kept the letters to himself.

“Dear Draco,

I fear the only answer I have for you is to talk to your mother or father. If Hydra was in my care I could easily provide him with a potion, the drought of dreamless sleep, which would keep the nightmares at bay. As it is now I don’t have the power to step in as much as I may like. I implore you to bring this subject up to your parents for they are the ones who will fix this.

Sincerely

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore”

Draco fumed at the old man. What a load of crap. If he cared he would do something. Or at least so thought Draco. Thankfully Michael had been more helpful.

“Dear Draco,

Blake has always had a rough time with nightmares. The best way to get him to calm down afterward it to use a weighted blanket or if that isn’t available give him a heavy squeezing hug. Not to tight he can’t breathe but the pressure makes him feel safe for some reason. I would recommend some Sleepy Time Tea which can be gotten at any Muggle grocery store before bed and if they have gotten worse a hot soak in the tub for fifteen minutes might help. Thank you for reaching out. Please keep me informed of what success you have.

With love,

Michael Webb”

At least Michael had been helpful in some ways. Draco had Dobby get the tea from a grocery store and his evening became one with a cup of tea. He tried it one night and even Draco enjoyed the tea before bed. And so life grew a bunch more bearable after the added tips. At least Hydra was getting back to sleep faster and didn’t wake as early from the nightmares. Every once in a while he didn’t even have them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crabbe and Goyle hadn’t visited for a while and when they came over it was finally a day to relax. The two bigger boys were not the brightest in the world, a fact that Draco would remind them of, but they were great for games of tag on broom or on foot. Draco was the best at it on broom though Crabbe could out run him on the ground. Hydra sat watching and as always never speaking.

“What is wrong with the retard?” asked Goyle. Draco flinched at the question. He had known it was coming and yet he was unprepared.

“Nothing,” said Draco.

“They why isn’t he playing with us?” asked Crabbe. “I don’t like the way he has been staring at us.”

“Yeah,” said Goyle. “Should have more, uh, respect.”

“Look just drop it. We can go fly on my brooms,” said Draco. The two other boys always loved to fly on his brooms as they were the best on the market as if he would accept anything less. Father had at least taught him what to expect of life. He, as a Malfloy, should only have the best.

“Why are you protecting him?” asked Crabbe. “Have you gone soft?”

“No you git,” said Draco barely containing his anger. “Now I told you to leave it.”

“Well what are you going to do about it,” said Goyle. “You ain’t so tough. Not really. You only good for us ‘cause your papa’s money.”

“Father will have your hide for this,” said Draco.

“You always use that threat when you don’t get your way,” said Crabbe. “Yet you are the one hiding bruises. Does he give those to you or are you just that big of a klutz?”

“Shove off,” Draco said. He couldn’t stand how the two boys were talking to him. Sure they were bigger than him but he didn’t need that. His fist surprised Crabbe as it smacked him in the face. Draco’s hand hurt as much as Crabbe must have because the boy spun back at Draco with his own fist. Goyle grabbed Draco from behind and Crabbe punched him in the gut once then twice and eventually three times. Crabbe looked like he wasn’t done when there was a burst of magic and Crabbe went flying. Draco crumpled to the ground unable to lift himself off the ground. He turned his head and saw Hydra looking as angry as his Father did at times. Hydra had gotten off the bench and had ran over. He ignored Goyle and knelt down helping Draco up.

“Watch…” said Draco trying to warn Hydra but he was to late. Goyle kicked the boy in the back of the head and Hydra dropped on top of Draco. Goyle went and grabbed Crabbe and the two walked away leaving the two of them on the ground. Pushing past his pain Draco got himself out from underneath Hydra. “Dobby.”

Pop. The small house elf appeared out of nowhere and his hands immediately fell on his open mouth. Dobby said in his squeaky voice, clearly concerned, “Master Draco! What has happened? Dobby is very worried.”

“Crabbe and Goyle were picking on Hydra,” said Draco. “Help me get him into the house. Goyle kicked him and I hurt too much to carry him.”

“Yes right away, Master Draco,” said Dobby. The house elf snapped his fingers and Hydra floated into the air. Surely the two of them would be better soon. Then he would get back at the two gits for this. No one hurt Draco like that. Well no one save his father.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Father had only been angry with Draco about the fight. That Draco was so weak that he was the one with new bruises and not the other two boys. Father was so cross with how useless Draco was that Draco only left nursing two new bruises from Father. Still Father had owled Crabbe and Goyle’s family and there was a sweat satisfaction in that. It didn’t make up for the hurt from Father but still.

The two of them didn’t come over again after that. Draco didn’t mind not really. He had Hydra to hang out with and that was growing more and more enjoyable as time went on. It was almost summer and that would mean a family trip to somewhere. Draco couldn’t help the storm that came up about that. On one hand he always enjoyed touring Europe and the like but on the other hand he still had to worry about Hydra. Father was still cross with the boy and nothing Draco had done had gotten him to talk. He still woke up with Nightmares almost every night and with Draco and him sharing a room so Draco could help calm him after wards. Dobby was of course there always but Dobby being an elf didn’t really know how to help. Not like how Draco did. There was no way that Father would be alright being woken like that on the trip and without Dobby to put a silencing charm on the room Father would surely be woken by Hydra’s screams. So it was that Draco had to convince Father to not take the two boys along on the trip. It was the only way.

“Father,” Draco started one diner when Father seemed the least cross in a while.

“Yes, Draco,” said Father.

“I was thinking,” said Draco. “You and Mommy haven’t had a vacation to yourself in so many years. Not since I was born.”

“That is true,” said Father. “Still just the ‘charms’ of having a family.”

“Well I was thinking why don’t you fix that,” said Draco. “This summer why not just the two of you go out. I will be fine here. Dobby can cook all my meals and I promise to be extra good.”

“Hmm,” said Father. “What do you think my love?”

“It seems like a wonderful idea,” said Mommy. “I would love some time with just the two of us. On a sunny beach maybe.”

“There is the bungalow in Spain,” said Father. “Do you think Draco is old enough for us to be away for two weeks?”

“I don’t see why not,” said Mommy. “We can hire a nanny if need be.”

Father only nodded and we dropped the subject after that. Draco knew the seed had been planted and soon Draco would have his way. No adults would be wonderful. No one to force him to go to bed on time and to have what ever meal he wanted would be wonderful. It only took a week for Father to come over to Draco’s idea and so it was that the first week of July that the two of them would be left alone with their own devices for a full two weeks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He really shouldn’t have but it would be his little secret. Draco had written Michael about a visit over the summer. Hydra needed it. He hadn’t shown any progress since December and so it was that Draco was hoping that visiting Michael would wake Hydra up the rest of the way. It would have to be their little secret though as Draco knew that Father and Mother would be rather cross with him if they found out. He knew he could rely on Hydra for that but Dobby couldn’t disobey Father and so Draco had told Dobby that he was going to spend time with the Goyles for the weekend. A small lie would save much trouble later.

There was only one problem though. Michael was staying with the Weasleys over the summer and Draco had heard enough from his father to know they were blood traitors. Father said it with so much venom in his voice and yet Draco had noticed that Father was that way with him often. Were they as bad as Father thought they were or were they just like Draco? It danced around Draco’s mind as he waited for the Weasleys to come and pick the two of them up.

There was a knock on the door and Draco opened it having been waiting. The Weasley’s were late but thankfully Dobby was still out shopping for food and other household needs like Draco had ordered him. This way Dobby would never know where he had taken Hydra. The tall red haired man sat in front of him with a black kid next to him. Draco didn’t really know what to do about that as he had never seen anyone with such dark skin and yet Hydra had ran past him and scooped the tall boy into a hug. That must have been Michael. Well there wasn’t anything to it now, Draco would just have to be kind to Michael now.

“Are you Draco?” asked the taller man.

“Yes,” said Draco. “Thank you for letting us come over for the weekend.”

“Surprised your parents said yes but it wasn’t like we could say no to having Blake over,” said Mr. Weasley. “Is your mother or father here?”

“No they had to run an errand,” lied Draco. He had told Michael that he had permission to do this which he most certainly did not. “They wished me well. We should get going though. Don’t want to keep you from your family for so long.”

“Right on,” said Mr. Weasley.

Draco grabbed his luggage in which he had packed both Hydra and his own clothes and other needs. It wouldn’t be too long of a visit but Draco wanted to be prepared anyway. Mr. Weasley gave him an odd look at the black luggage but didn’t say a thing. Michael was too busy talking to Hydra to notice the luggage and so they walked off to the car that was parked in the drive way. Draco had never ridden in the muggle contraption and he found the idea strangely intriguing. After all how had something so stupid as a muggle made such a big object move without magic?

Climbing into the back the three boys buckled up when instructed. Mr. Weasley had put the luggage into the back hatch of the car and then got into the driver’s seat. The car purred to life and they pulled away. It was a rather short ride to a nearby town and Draco was happy that the Weasley’s didn’t live far from home. Michael still hadn’t stopped talking to Hydra who was in quiet rapture over the older boy’s words. Draco paid attention but mostly it was stuff the two of them already knew for Michael’s letters. Things about how Hogwarts had been and remarks on how Quidditch was the best sport ever. Of course it was. No muggle sport could compare of course.

“Thank you, Draco,” said Michael all the sudden. “I know it must have been quite the hassle getting used to living with Blake. But you have been so nice about that.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” said Draco. “Only doing the best for my cousin. What did you think a noble house like the Malfloy’s would do.”

Mr. Weasley grumbled for a moment under his breathe but Draco didn’t catch what Mr. Weasley had said. Ignoring that he focused on the window watching the wheat fields pass over the gentle hills. There was something wonderful about the green fields. Draco had never been out in the country and while the thought of getting dirty struck Draco as abhorrent the way the fields swayed in the wind made it seem almost magical.

They pulled up to a shack of a house, or what looked more like several shacks stacked on top of each other. How anyone lived in such a house seemed beyond comprehension and yet from the sound of it there were plenty inside. Draco worried for a moment about the noise and if it would be too much for Hydra. He didn’t much like the fireworks that they had gotten for Draco’s birthday. But there was an excitement to Hydra’s face that Draco had never seen before and he shrugged his shoulders at it. After all they were here for Hydra so Draco could stomach a bit of a mess for two days.

“Come on boys,” said Mr. Weasley. “I bet that Molly has diner ready by now and we wouldn’t want to keep the family waiting. Oh just as a warning to you two, there are a lot of us so it might be a tight squeeze this weekend. Don’t worry we have plenty of room for the two of you though.”

Draco shuddered at that statement. Being an only child had lead him to expect certain things and this was most certainly not it. Getting out of the car Draco grabbed the Luggage from the back and rolled it up the dirt path to the front of the house, if you could call it that. Mr. Weasley opened the door and took the woman in the room into a hug. It was a bit awkward for Draco to see such a display as there was to be no touching when guests were over at home and even then Draco couldn’t remember a time that his parents had been so affectionate.

“You two must be Blake and Draco,” said the woman. “I’m Molly the mom of the house. You two looked starved come on come on. Diner is ready and I don’t know how much I can keep the twins from eating everything.”

Michael laughed at that but Draco found such an idea horrifying. Did these people not even have enough money for food? No wonder they had such an odd house. Well he kept it to himself as Hydra looked like he was about to explode from excitement. Draco hadn’t realize the boy could even feel excitement and it threatened to bring tears to his face but Draco wiped his eyes and shook his head. He would surely not be seen crying by these people. Mrs. Weasley lead them into a kitchen dining room where seven red heads sat. Each of them had the same hair and it was no mistaking them as anything but Weasleys. How there were so many of them baffled Draco. He took a good look at Mrs. Weasley and shuddered. Mother had refused to have more children after Draco and here there were seven kids of various ages. Most of them looked older than Draco and he felt a bit concerned about that. There was nothing but smiling faces here though. In fact Draco had never seen anyone so happy and it confused Draco. Hydra had pulled him to a seat next to Michael on the bench and Draco only sat because of Hydra’s insistence.

“I can’t believe that this is happening,” said one of the boys that was taller than Draco. There were two of them that looked exactly the same save for their clothes as one wore green and the other red. “A Malfloy at the table.”

Draco felt proud to be such a inspiration to them. Then the other one smirked and laughed. Draco scowled. What was so funny? He was someone to look up to. After all he had the pedigree behind him that was only fitting for one of the Sacred twenty eight. But something told him that here that didn’t really matter. What would Blood Traitors care of Draco’s lineage? It seemed so odd to him.

“Now boys,” said Mr. Weasley. “I expect you to be nice to young Draco and especially nice to Blake. Okay?”

There was a chorus of yeses from all six of the boys. Why had they all listened to such a weak request? There wasn’t any anger in Mr. Weasley’s voice at all and yet there had been no hesitation from any of them including the ones who didn’t seem to mind my presence at all. Maybe he saved his anger for when there weren’t guests around.

Mrs. Weasley served Draco a plate of pot roast beef and potatoes and carrots. It sat on a wooden plate and Draco only had a fork and butter knife to use which seemed utterly uncivilized. How did they expect him to eat off this? She served a plate for Hydra as well that had everything separated into its own sections. Hydra didn’t wait to dig in as he ate happily. It had been the first time Draco had seen him not spend half an hour looking at the food before he ate. Soon everyone was eating with Mr. Weasley served last. Draco hate waited for him to take his bite before eating though Draco got a few weird looks from the older boys at the table. He took a small bite of the beef testing it first to make sure Draco could stomach to eat such a lowly food. It melted in his mouth and Draco hadn’t ever tasted something this good. Dobby was a decent cook but clearly the Weasley elf was much better. He looked around for it but couldn’t see it anywhere. Still Draco wasn’t one to look such a gift in the mouth and chomped down. Even Hydra had eaten rather quickly and Draco had to race him done.

“Thanks Mom,” said the tallest boy at the table. He had longish hair for a boy and wore some sort of muggle clothing that looked rather cool on him.

“Your welcome, Bill,” said Mrs. Weasley.

“Yeah thanks Mom,” said one of the twins.

“Yeah this is great,” said the other. “If I knew that inviting over a Malfloy would get us such a treat I would have done so long ago.”

“Yeah,” said the smallest boy who was between Hydra and Draco in size.

Draco finished his plate and waited for the adults to excuse him. Soon the eldest boys finished and both got up and washed their own plates in the sink. Did they not have an elf for that? Draco almost laughed at the sight of it and yet Draco figured it wouldn’t be very polite. Still he waited to be excused.

“Draco do you want some more?” asked Mrs. Weasley.

“No thank you,” Draco said.

“Now don’t be shy if you want seconds just ask,” said Mrs. Weasley.

Draco didn’t rightly know how to deal with that. After all he had never been allowed seconds before. It showed that Dobby hadn’t done his job right and that wasn’t a thing worth asking for seconds for. Not in the slightest. Yet here seemed different. It wasn’t like he really wanted more though so he waited quietly as the Adults started to talk.

The smallest boy and the twins started up their own conversations and I waited for them to be reprimanded. To talk over adults like that. Draco almost laughed again. Yet it didn’t come. None of them even flinched. Soon everyone was done with their food and they each washed their own plate. Hydra looked to Michael before following him to the sink. Draco hurried after them and despite the indignity of it washed his plate. He wasn’t about to get yelled at even if it meant sinking so low as an elf. Michael lead Hydra out of the room and Draco followed right behind him. The twins caught up to them and they began talking to Michael about school. Not wanting to hear more about Hogwarts Draco ignored them and focused on Hydra. He was getting tired Draco could tell. It was obvious in the way he walked so slowly up the stairs.

“Hey you,” said Draco.

“I have a name,” said Michael. “Use it.”

“Fine,” I spat. “Hydra is getting tired. He didn’t sleep well again last night. Where is he sleeping I need to help him get ready for bed.”

“Oh uh let me go ask,” said Michael.

“Nah don’t worry about it,” said the green twin.

“Yeah we will go ask,” said the red twin. “This is your time with your brother. Let us sweat the details.”

“Thank you,” said Michael. “Draco, how often does he have nightmares?”

“Every night,” said Draco. “He couldn’t sleep today at his nap time and all this stuff is wearing him out.”

“You know him well,” said Michael. “I used to be the only one in the family that could tell so well about him. Thank you for taking care of him so well.”

“Of course,” said Draco. “It is my duty.”

The twins returned making a large amount of noise on the stairs. Draco glared daggers at them not that they noticed. Hydra was obviously having a hard time of it though and Draco put his hand on Hydra’s shoulder trying to support the poor boy who looked from Draco’s eyes about to drop.

“Mom says that the two of them are going to be in Ron’s room while he takes the couch,” said the green twin.

“I hope he doesn’t mind,” said Michael.

“What do we care?” said the red twin. “Now come on you two lets get the poor whittle ones off to bed. Fred go grab their bags while I get them some new bedding. Can’t imagine them wanting to use Ron’s dirty sheets.”

“Thank you,” said Michael. “This way only a few more floors to go.”

The three of them walked all the way to the top of the tower like house to an open floor that contained a messy room of a bed and clothes covering the floor. It was like a hurricane had come through laden with dressers filled to the brim with clothes. There was toys in one side but Draco pretended to not notice. Childish stuff like that was behind him already. Just like Father had wanted. The green twin came in carrying the violin case and the suitcase up the long flight of stairs. Draco couldn’t help the twinge of satisfaction at not having to carry the bloody thing up so many stairs. Right behind the red twin was the green one with a mountain of blankets in his arms.

“Thanks guys,” said Michael. “Sorry about the mess apparently this is what counts as clean in Ron’s mind. Still if you need anything I am just down a floor.”

Hydra nodded. Draco got busy finding their pajamas each. He tossed a pair at Hydra who caught them for once and got started changing right away. Draco savored the feel of his silk pajama pants and quickly slipped off his robs and put on the pair of pants. He didn’t often sleep with a shirt on as it was though he had packed one just in case. Sometimes is was too cold to not have one but too warm for another blanket. The blankets which the red twin had left on the bed were not the usual fair Draco was used to but they would work. Of course a family like this wouldn’t have the best of things. He almost laughed at the thought of it. He spread out the blanket. He could deal to not have Dobby do it for him for two nights. No he would suffer these indignities with pride and not complain at all. At least not where Hydra could hear him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Screams woke Draco again. It was a nightly routine for him. At some point Hydra would not be able to whimper through the nightmares any more and then it came out as screams. At first Draco had hated the fact that Hydra woke him so often. It just wasn’t fair he had thought to have to deal with that. But now it was so normal that Draco didn’t mind. Waking now and dealing with Hydra’s fear proved far less stressful than dealing with his waking nightmares which came when Hydra didn’t sleep at all. So it was with a sense of duty that Draco hugged Hydra to his chest while the other boy cried and shook in his grasp.

What Draco hadn’t expected was to see half of the family come into the room some half asleep and the others seemingly wide awake. Michael came over the quickest and rubbed Hydra up and down on the back. It seemed to help but Draco didn’t really know why. Still he would have to remember that. Mrs. Weasley came over and sat on the side of the bed. There was a fear in her eyes that seemed strange to see in an adult. Mr. Weasley however was ushering the others out of the room. He came back up and stood by the stairs.

“Does he get these often?” asked Mrs. Weasley quietly.

“Yes,” Draco said quietly. “Every night. Still don’t know what they are about or why.”

“Abigail told me that the two of them saw the bodies of Pa and Dad,” said Michael quietly. “Mrs. Olivander says it was quite bad.”

“Oh my dears I’m so sorry,” said Mrs. Weasley. “Have you tried draught of dreamless sleep?”

“What is that?” asked Draco.

“I’ll take that as a no,” said Mrs. Weasley. “Hasn’t your parents taken him into St. Mungo’s.”

“No Father doesn’t want to be embarrassed like that,” said Draco. “I don’t think they know that Hydra has these nightmares. Our house elf puts a silence charm on our room at night so Father doesn’t get woken.”

Mrs Weasley looked like she wanted to say something but was holding her tongue. They were so weird to Draco that they even cared and neither of them looked mad in the least. Only concern filled their eyes. Mrs Weasley even ran a hand across Draco’s back and pulled him into a side ways hug. It was rather uncomfortable and yet at the same time calmed Draco. What was wrong with him? He didn’t need such comforts. No only babies needed such things yet he wanted to lean into Mrs. Weasley’s hug all the same. It was like a weight had been lifted off Draco’s shoulders and he couldn’t help it as tears came unbidden from his eyes. Something was wrong and Draco started to suspect it wasn’t with here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco slept in far later than he had ever done before. It was weird waking up refreshed and ready to tackle a day. It took him a moment to remember why Dobby hadn’t woke him already. Hydra still slept next to him and looked too peaceful to wake. Having finished getting dressed Draco walked down to the ground floor where he could hear the sounds of chatter. It was so noisy in this house but it didn’t worry Draco. Not really. There was no yelling and it only sounded fun to be here. It just wasn’t something that sat well with Draco. Wasn’t children supposed to not be seen or heard unless asked for?

“Morning Draco,” said Mrs. Weasley. “I hope you slept well after Blake’s nightmare.”

“Yes,” said Draco. “Sorry for sleeping in.”

“Oh it is fine,” said Mrs. Weasley. “Do you want some breakfast? I made sure to save some for you two.”

“Thank you,” said Draco.

Mrs Weasley made up a plate for him and Draco found a seat next to the only girl in the family. She was lazily eating her food while the three slightly older boys talked about their plans for the day. They were talking about practicing Quidditch which sounded like something Draco wanted to do. Michael looked like he was eager to as well but it was hard to tell as his face seemed to have a mask over it. Draco was good enough at reading people that Michael was hiding something but what was beyond Draco. Hopefully it wouldn’t matter.

“Michael why don’t you go up and wake Blake?” suggest Mrs. Weasley. “Wouldn’t want him to miss out on the day ahead of us, would we?”

“Of course not, Ma’am,” said Michael

“I’ve told you, you needn’t call me that,” said Mrs. Weasley but it was obvious her words fell on deaf ears as Michael got off of the bench and hurried upstairs.

Draco turned back to his meal. Something in him just felt off and he wanted nothing to do with the crazy amount of people that were here. None of them were really bothering him and yet the noise grated on his nerves. How did they life like this? Would they ever shut up? His head had started to ache and he barely noticed how hard he was holding the fork he had been eating with. Even with that headache crawling up the back of his head it was the ache in his chest that bothered him the most. He couldn’t help but think of his mother. He missed her terribly but he didn’t think it was their separation that made him so. Not that he could say why he felt that way otherwise. But when he was being fully honest he knew it was a feeling that had been dogging him for a while now. Possibly even from before Hydra came to stay with them.

Draco was broken from his stupor when Hydra sat next to him and leaned against him. If it had been anywhere else Draco would have shook him off not wanting to be seen as weak but here that felt wrong. Maybe it had been wrong everywhere. But Father would hate to see his son doing that? What didn’t Father hate of Draco’s actions? Draco wrapped an arm around Hydra and pulled him in closer. Michael put a plate down in front of Hydra and sat on the other side of Draco where the girl had gotten up already. Draco flinched when he felt Michael’s hand fall on his shoulder. What did this boy want?

“Thank you for taking care of him,” said Michael softly. “I’m sure it hasn’t been easy but he trusts you and for that I can’t thank you enough.”

“I did this for him,” said Draco. “Not you or anyone else.”

“Yeah but still,” said Michael.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of course they would have rickety second hand brooms. What else could a family such as this have? Draco should have brought his own broom he thought as he mounted the one he was borrowing from the Weasley’s to play a mock up match of Quidditch. There were only six of them so one Keeper one Chaser and one Seeker per team. Draco had never been able to play before but now that he was on a team, he knew he would have to show up these buffoons. Fred, or at least Draco thought it was hard to keep the twins separate in his mind, and Charlie were on his team with the other team made up of George, Michael and Bill. Michael and Draco were seekers and Draco scoffed at the idea that the Weasleys even had a Quidditch set. Yet here he was raising into the air at the one goal each match waiting for Ron on the ground to release the Snitch and then throw up the Quaffle. They weren’t playing with the Bludgers as apparently one was dead for some reason and the other was more aggressive than normal. Draco didn’t really mind that fact after all he had seen what Bludger could do when they weren’t crazy and broken. It wasn’t a thing Draco wanted to live through. Ron threw up the Quaffle and Draco silently cursed under his breath he hadn’t been watching when the git had release the Snitch. Soaring around the makeshift field Draco scanned the sky for the Snitch. He was normally good at spotting small things so this shouldn’t have been too much of a trouble surely.

Michael had clearly more practice at this game than Draco had as he dove obviously finding the Snitch rather early. Draco sped after him and the two of them raced neck and neck after the Snitch. Not paying attention it was all Draco could do to not fall of the broom when Fred, or was it George, flew in front of the two boys to catch the Quaffle. That time Draco swore out loud. Spiraling out of the way Draco barely kept a hold of his borrowed Broom and had to sit to catch his breath and heart.

“Watch it George,” shouted Michael. “You nearly knocked the both of us off our brooms.”

“He he, Sorry,” said the twin that had almost knocked them out of the air. He looked slightly apologetic but he quickly got back into the game.

“You had better be,” shouted Draco.

Draco had half a mind to quit right there. Clearly it was safer. But he wasn’t a coward and he surely wouldn’t let some red haired maniac shoo him out of the air. So he did a circle of the field they played in. He could barely keep track of how quickly the ball changed hands but then again he was looking for the Snitch instead. Keeping an eye on Michael seemed important and so the two of them circled the field. The game went on for what seemed like forever with the score kept by Ginny. Finally Draco spotted a hint of gold near one of the goal posts and he flew towards it intent on ending the game and wining. Michael must have seen it too and dove after the glint as well. For a moment it was neck and neck but as the Snitch turned and twisted in the air Draco lost more and more ground to Michael and soon the buzzing ball was in his hands. Draco couldn’t help the disappointment in that loss. It was clearly the broom’s fault. If he had been on his own broom Michael wouldn’t have stood a chance. Yet in his more honest thoughts, he knew it wasn’t the brooms fault. They both had crappy brooms and that hadn’t stopped Michael from catching the snitch.

“What is wrong with you?” Ron asked of Hydra. The two boys were sitting a bit away from the field and Hydra had a slight happy face even though his eyes betrayed his true happiness. The question however stole that light from Hydra’s eyes. Ron did not seem to like the silence he got from Hydra and got up and put his face right in front of Hydra’s. “What is wrong with you? Huh, git?”

“Ron don’t mess with him,” shouted Charlie from above.

Draco however was more than a bit peeved that Ron was making fun of Hydra. Draco barely noticed that he was hovering over Ron and many thoughts of how best to beat the larger boy was running through his head. Draco hadn’t been in many fights but he certainly wasn’t going to stand by if Ron continued.

“But look at him,” said Ron. “He doesn’t talk and now he ignores me. Why are you being nice to such a daft boy?”

“Leave him alone,” growled Draco.

“Or what? Gonna tell your snob of a Daddy?” sneered Ron. “I don’t like being ignored. ‘Specially by people taking my bed away from me.”

Draco didn’t really think about what he was doing when he jumped off the broom and landed right no top of Ron. The bigger boy yowled in pain but was quicker on the recover than Draco had expected. Ron wrapped his arms around Draco’s midsection and spun the boy pining him to the ground. With one hand holding him down Ron smacked Draco across the head. Draco wiggled just enough to get free of Ron’s grip when a pair of large hands grabbed him and pulled him away from Ron. Ron was likewise being pulled away by one of th Bill as Charlie held Draco.

“Let me at him,” shouted Ron. He was struggling against Bill’s grip. “He bloody attacked me.”

“No one messes with Hydra,” shouted Draco struggling against Charlie’s grip. The world was still tinted red to Draco and he wasn’t about to back down.

Michael however stepped between the two of them and faced Ron first. His voice was calm but almost scary in a way that Draco very much shuddered against. He said, “Don’t you ever make fun of my brother again for being different. Ever.” He turned to Draco. “Maybe don’t attack people so quickly.”

“Hmmph,” snorted Draco as he calmed down. The git had deserved it. Still nursing his face he didn’t want to get sent home from the Weasley’s if only for Hydra’s sake. So he nodded and Charlie let him go. There was talk of keeping this to each other and away from Mrs. Weasley which Draco was very much so happy for. He didn’t want to get beat by anyone else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The weekend had ended sooner than Draco had expected. He was glad to be home yet home felt quiet and empty now. Like there was some part of that noisy packed hole that Draco had liked. Not that Draco would dare let anyone not even Hydra know that. Still the trip had done Hydra good as he slept with less nightmares and seemed happier in general. Hopefully Mommy nor Father would notice the change in the boy and wonder why. Everything had gone perfectly.

Father and Mommy were utterly happy when they came home. It warmed Draco’s heart to see them so but he couldn’t help but feel a bit of fear about his secret. So he told the truth as much as possible and focused on the time the two of them had been at home alone with only Dobby as any other form of company. Mommy seemed content with that but Father kept eying him that made Draco’s heart skip a beat each time

“So Draco, I heard the most absurd thing today while I was working,” said Father. “Do you know what I heard?”

“Yes Father,” said Draco lying.

“It was after my lunch with the Minister, Crowle stopped me to share a strange thing he had over heard,” said Father. “I couldn’t believe my ears when he told me what he had heard.”

Draco’s heart dropped. Father knew somehow. Draco tried to look normal. There was no way Father had known. He had been so careful about everything. Dobby didn’t even know. Clearly this would be something else. Must have been something about some muggle born doing something silly.

“He said that that blood traitor Weasley was talking about how a young Malfloy was the nicest little guest,” said Father. “That he had been so well behaved and something about him being very different than what that git had thought you would be like. Care to explain.”

Draco couldn’t even breath. What should he do? Maybe lie or joke about the Weasley’s being stupid? No father would see right through that. But what other choice did he have. It wasn’t like he could just admit to it. There was no way that he could ever tell Father. But clearly he already knew. And so Draco froze.

“Well spit it out,” said Father. “Did you spend some time with the Weasley’s while we were gone on vacation? Did you find their hovel better than the home I give you? Huh? Speak up, Draco?”

“No Father,” said Draco.

“No what?” said Father almost shouting. “No you didn’t go there or no you didn’t like it. We can build you a little hut out in the back if you would prefer to live like those blood traitors. You can wallow in the dirt till your blood becomes as dirty as theirs.”

“No,” said Draco shuddering.

Father had gotten out of his seat and walked around the diner table. Draco braced for the hit that he knew was coming. It came a second later than Draco had thought when Draco had cracked his eyes to see what Father was up to. Draco fell over backwards chair in all.

“What have I told you about lying boy?” shouted Father. “Why did you deem fit to go visit those bloody traitors?”

“I…I…,” stammered Draco. If he said the truth he would only get Hydra beat as well. It wouldn’t diminish Draco’s beating and so he stopped trying to explain and just sat there waiting for the next blow.

“Did that freak of a cousin infect you with his daftness?” shouted Father between blows. Father had lifted Draco off the floor and was hitting his rear with his fist. “This is why I didn’t want him in our house. I want him gone before he causes more damage to the Malfloy name. I can’t believe this my own son associating with blood traitors.”

“Lucious, I will deal with the boys,” said Mommy. “This will never happen again I promise. Draco only wanted to see how bad they were himself.”

“Why should I risk him infecting Draco more? That retard is not going to degrade my son anymore,” said Father who had stopped hitting Draco.

“I’m sorry,” said Draco. “It was my fault. I just wanted to see how bad they had it. To know how good here is. I took Hydra to show him what Blood traitors were like so he knew how important his blood is and how to honor it. Please Father.”

“If anything like this happens again I will personally make sure that boy never sets foot in this house again,” said Father before dropping Draco to the floor and stomping out of the room.

Draco sat there on the floor for a bit waiting for someone to help him. It wasn’t as if he was in any condition to move and yet Mommy didn’t come. After a few minutes Draco pushed himself off the floor. There was a distant shriek and then another. Draco looked down at his hands. Father was beating Hydra right now and it was all Draco’s fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the last Draco Perspective Chapter for a while. I think there will be a time skip at this point so yeah. Not like I plan things out mind you. So who knows. Either way I hope you enjoy this.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: This chapter is probably the worst of the Child Abuse. Oh and swearing. Yeah that happens.
> 
> I promise that following chapters will be nicer. Totally. Like for real this is the last of the rather horrid abuse.

Hydra Lestrange

I woke next to Draco again. As always. We slept in the same bed for more than a year now and I had grown to enjoy the comfort of that even if my head was still so very foggy all the time. I sat watching him not wanting to wake him again. My nightmares had been bad last night, well more than usual, and Draco needed what sleep I could let him have. Besides Dobby would be here to wake us before long. Normally I would do my best to get back to sleep but today was different. Draco had managed to convince his…parent…that we should visit Abigail. I missed her so much. Not that I didn’t miss Michael, or well…

I cried for a while. Thankfully the images that haunted my nightmares didn’t pop up in my head again but nothing ever felt like it would be alright again. Not really. Not with them gone. My breathing must have become troubled as Draco stirred next to me and he looked at me with his cool gray eyes. They had long since lost the anger that used to fill them when I woke him and instead there was only worry. It was hidden behind the layers of his face as he barely showed even me much of his inner world. Draco had been a god send for me and I knew I wouldn’t have made it this last year otherwise. Not with out his gentleness.

“Nightmare again?” asked Draco softly as he sat up and pulled me into a hug. He was still smaller than I was but he had more muscle and weight to him that he could pick me up if he wanted. It wasn’t like I fought against him though as he pulled me into a tight hug that always made my heart calm.

I shook my head and when he let me out of the hug the two of us got out of the bed. Draco had given me a single drawer out of his dresser, not that I would need more, and we got dressed. I still was a bit awkward about this but Draco didn’t seem to notice or at least he didn’t care. I pulled on the robes which I did like and were the ones I wore pretty much everyday. After all they were the most comfortable and kept that strange dread away from my heart. Draco waited for me to finish before straightening my robes up on me. He was far more impeccable than I was and I appreciated that he made sure I looked my best.

Left in the kitchen with Dobby, Draco went for breakfast with his…parents. I very much so liked that I didn’t have to be in the room with him. Draco could handle his family but I always messed it up. It was very much so best that I avoided my Aunt and Uncle as much as possible. So it was that I ate silently with Dobby while the rest of the household ate just a room away from here. Dobby had such a hard life and I did my best to not make it worse on him. Still Draco would not see me doing any of Dobby’s chores and I had given up on that after a while. The elf seemed happy enough doing all the house work but it still felt wrong.

Dobby had set up a number of step ladders here and there through out the relatively large kitchen. It clearly had been meant for more people yet it was only the five of us, counting Dobby, that ate here with any regularity. Pots and pans hung from the ceiling from copper bars and the whole thing was rather homey unlike much of the rest of the house.

I could hear the conversation petter off in the room next to us and Dobby went out to collect plates. I was mostly done and I didn’t really feel much like eating. Not that I ever felt much like eating. I waited though for Draco to come and get me. When I had first come here my mind was so foggy that I don’t really remember much of what went on but Draco since has kept me close to him and I haven’t found reason to stop that. I like knowing someone is there if I need them or for those cases where Draco needed me. He didn’t like to admit it but I knew that he liked having me around. Not that I could figure out why. I was just trouble for him.

Some time later I wasn’t really paying attention Draco came and found me. I got up without bidding and followed him from the room. The house had grown quiet and I assumed that He had left. It was better that way. Safer. Unconsciously I rubbed the place I had been last hit by Him. It had healed already but I could still feel it on my skin. I couldn’t wait to get out of here and be at Hogwarts. I should have been getting my letter today. After all it was my eleventh birthday. I could be free of all of this and hopefully Hogwarts would be as awesome as Michael’s letters made it out to be. Still I shook my thoughts of the future from my head and tried to focus on the here and now. We had some homework to do before we went to Abigail’s. It was easy enough. We were working on our writing skills. Draco had a harder time of it than I did but he was still better than I remembered my former classmates being. The tutor was nice enough though seemed mostly annoyed by me to the point that he ignored that I existed. I probably could have gotten away with not doing anything but that seemed unfair to Draco. We were in this together, like everything in the last year and a half.

Afterward it was time to go. Draco’s mother took us by floo to the Olivander's. I couldn’t help my shaking at that point. A smile almost crept on my face as I saw Abigail. She had grown taller and her hair was longer than ever. Her eyes lit up at the sight of me and she scooped me up into a hug. I squeezed her back. Draco’s mother smirked at us and then left Draco and I there.

“Hello,” said Draco. “I’m Hydra’s cousin.”

“Hi,” said Abigail. “Come on we have so much to do today. Oh happy birthday.”

I smiled at her and let her drag me from the room. Draco was following stiffly behind us. I was very much so certain he wouldn’t particularly like joining in in the games that Abigail had planned. I worried for a moment that Draco might get angry at us for playing house or something like that and I wanted so much to have bit of time that I could pretend like everything was right again in the world. Just a moment. Still Draco would be nice. I hoped.

“Draco? Do you want to play house with us?” asked Abigail. “Or we could do something else I guess. I don’t know what sort of games you play at home.”

“We don’t really play,” said Draco. “I fly on my broom most of the time for fun. I don’t really want to play house but it is Hydra’s birthday.”

“His name is Blake,” said Abigail. I pulled on her hand though and our eyes met for a moment. I shrugged and she looked away for a moment before almost tackling me in a hug. “Fine you can call him Hydra. It is a cool name. Come on Blake lets get to it.”

I sat down next to her and she handed me a doll. There was something almost comical about this now. Us playing dolls and I couldn’t help the tears that came unbidden. It had been a while since I had cried during the day. Draco seemed to be put off by it and it had been easy enough to just bottle up my emotions and let them stay so until the escaped at night in the form of my dreams. Here though there wasn’t any such control. Abigail pulled me into a hug as I stared at the doll. It had blue hair made of yarn and short dress made of felt. The whole thing felt so handmade. It reminded me of the dolls I once had. I couldn’t think anymore only the images of that night of that redness. Of the blood and the smell of it that still lingered in my throat threatening to strangle me as I barely gasped at each breath. The red eyes glaring at me and moving to consume me. I hadn’t realized I was screaming until I ran out of breath and even my head had faded to black.

Something warm squeezed me that smelt nice in a way that sort of threatened to have the images spill back into my mind. A second pair of hands helped me up and I stumbled across the gray carpet into a bed. I could hear the two of them, Draco and Abigail, talking for a moment bringing back my awareness of the two. I felt the bed jostle as someone else climbed into it with me and pulled me into a hug with my head laying against their chest. I just listened to their heart beat for a while letting that be all that ran through my head.

Draco lifted me up and pressed a bottle to my lips and I drank the potion feeling the effects immediately. A peace filled me though my head blurred a bit with it. Still I felt better than I had in a long while. Abigail hugged me tighter and I hugged her back. I clung to her fearing that if I let go the peaceful feeling that had fallen over me would leave with her. My breathing had softened and I could pay attention to the world around me again without the panic taking me again.

“Draco, how often does this happen?” asked Mrs. Olivander.

“I really shouldn’t say,” said Draco. “Father says we shouldn’t talk about family business outside of the house.”

“Blake is like family for us,” said Mrs. Olivander. “You can talk to us. We just want to help. I can see the bags under your eyes. You aren’t sleeping enough are you?”

“So what if I’m not?” said Draco. He was trying to project control in his voice but it was breaking. This was all my fault. I kept him up all hours of the night.

“It’s my fault,” I said.

Draco jerked his head in my direction. Shock plastered his face and he walked over to me almost crying. It had been a while to see him cry and his tears were different than before. More painful to watch even though there was a happiness to his eyes. He wrapped his arms around both Abigail and I.

“It isn’t your fault,” said Draco. “You are fine. Everything is fine. I can’t believe you spoke.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“How long had it been since he spoke last?” asked Abigail.

“The entire time he has lived with us he has only ever screamed from nightmares,” said Draco. “I hadn’t heard him speak this entire time. I’m sorry. I didn’t do good enough. I should have done better. I failed you.”

Draco was full on sobbing and I could feel the guilt eating at the potion that coursed through me. It was held at bay but only just. Mrs Olivander looked utterly crushed by something. She sat down on the bed and started to rub Draco’s back, who at first jerked away before allowing himself to be pulled into a hug by Mrs Olivander.

Something had been so wrong for so long that I had forgotten how bad it was. Draco didn’t even know that it could be better. He didn’t have the memories of them to keep him knowing what true love was. I hadn’t been there for him like he had been for me. From now on I would try. Not that I was any good to anyone right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Abigail pulled me along the long hallway. The pictures’ content hadn’t changed since I was last here but they all looked fondly at Abigail as we passed. She had been fully accepted here by her ancestors and it made me happy to know so. Draco had to hurry to keep up with the pace that Abigail set and at first he had looked annoyed by it but he seemed a bit more happy. His eyes were still red though from his tears and the weight that had been on him for so long was more visible than ever. I would have cried more if I wasn’t so drained from both prior crying and the potion. We came to top of the stairs and I could hear Papa’s voice. Mr. Olivander was telling him some amusing facet of his work as of recent and the two older men were chuckling at it.

I slipped from Abigail’s hand and rushed past her running into Papa and hugging him tightly. He patted my back and I let go after a moment more. Looking past Papa, my heart skipped a beat as I saw Michael standing next to him. I squeaked and tackle hugged him. He laughed and held himself up easy enough. He had grown since I had last seen him and small tears of joy spilled onto his shoulder.

“I missed you too,” said Michael.

“I love you,” I whispered into his ear. “I missed you so much.”

“Only a few more months and then we will be at the same school again,” said Michael. “You guys look like you’ve had a hard day already though. I brought you a present.”

I smiled at him and he pulled out a small package. It had been wrapped in a piece of parchment with a string tying it together. I laughed a bit and shook as he handed it to me. Carefully I opened it to reveal silver locket. Opening it there was a picture of Dad and Pa on either sides of the locket. I held it to my chest and leaned against Michael. He pat my back and I felt a second pair of arms wrap around me. I could smell Abigail, not that she smelt foul or anything just that it was a comforting smell.

“If I could, Blake I have something small for you as well,” said Papa. “Well on top of your acceptance letter.”

Papa presented a book to me. It had a worn leather cover and inlaid lettering spelling out the title of the book. It must have been an older copy as the writing was sloppy and had an almost handmade look to it. Musings of a Strange Fellow. It must have been a memoir of some sort and I flipped open the front cover to find neat hand written index of what was to come. It had a number of sections dedicated to the author’s adventures with magic and some seemingly more personal.

“Thank you,” I said. “To both of you.”

“So I don’t forget here is your acceptance letter,” said Papa. “I felt I should give you the same personal touch I gave your brother.”

Putting on the new locket, I took the letter from Papa. It was much the same as Michael’s had been, or at least from what I could remember. The book list seemed a bit different but that made some sense. I tucked the letter into my new book and a thought came to me. How was I supposed to get my books? I had no idea where the key to my vault was and there seemed little likelihood that the Malfloy’s would buy my supplies for me.

“Do either of you have my vault key?” I asked. “I don’t have much from the…house…I’ll need to buy my school supplies.”

“I have your key as well as your belongings from the apartment,” said Papa. “I have them put away somewhere safe for you. Don’t worry about your school supplies I will make sure you have them. I even have your wand saved for you.”

I nodded. At least it was one more thing I didn’t have to worry about. Even with the potion still keeping me calm I felt like I needed to lay down again. It had almost been too much today already. For once I felt like I might be able to sleep without the nightmares clogging my brain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Abigail Richards

Abigail sat petting Blake’s head as he sleep with it on her lap. She couldn’t help the worry that filled her. Something was wrong with Blake. Something that Abigail couldn’t put a finger on and yet she knew she had to do something. This Draco seemed nice enough but both of them looked like they would collapse at a moments notice and the way that Draco kept an eye on all the adults reminded her of kids from her school. Ones that came to school hiding bruises from everyone not that they did a very good job of it. There was no way that she was going to get a chance to look over Blake for bruises and she wasn’t certain if he would tell her or not. After all all the kids at school hadn’t wanted to talk about it, why would Blake? Would she even want to bring up the memories? Hadn’t he been hurt enough?

Draco sat a bit down from them almost dozing off. Neither of them seemed like the kids they were supposed to be. None of the energy that Abigail had herself. The growing dread seemed to eat at her and so she wiggled out from under Blake’s head replacing her lap with one of the blue cushions from the couch and gently kissing him on the head as she left him. His Papa was still here and if anyone could do anything it had to be him. Abigail had read up on famous wizards of the modern era. It was an interesting and at times scary thing. Reading about the Boy Who Lived and the darkness of the prior Wizarding War of England. Yet Dumbledore had sat at the middle of all of that as a shining example of the good in the world. He could fix anything.

Granny, Gamps, and Dumbledore were having tea in the kitchen. Michael had taken tea with them but was now back in the living room doing some homework. Passing by a couple of pictures Abigail waved at them. It was somewhat funny that the painting of a deaf relative couldn’t hear as well. It wasn’t like they had ears really so why wouldn’t they be able to hear. Silly magic. Still Abigail did her best to make sure the family member got as much love from her as the rest of the pictures. She would talk to them all when Granny and Gamps were busy, which was more often than Abigail wanted but it wasn’t like they had planned to be having her stay.

She could hear the soft voices of adult talk as she approached the kitchen and she traced the soft worn walls with her fingers the grain of wood worn to the point of smoothness. The floor creaked as she stepped on it and she came around the corner into the kitchen. The adults must have been talking about something serious as they had all gone quiet as she walked into the room. Granny had gotten up to tend to her and there was a sad smile on her face. Abigail hugged her and snuggled against the older woman for a moment.

“Granny, something is wrong with Draco and Blake,” Abigail started. “I’m worried. They look like hurt puppies. Like someone hurt them.”

“Oh dear,” said Granny. She looked over her shoulder across the cluttered kitchen. “We were just talking about that. I think you might be right.”

“Well we have to do something,” said Abigail. “We can’t let Blake get hurt more. He is too hurt already.”

“We feel the same but without proof there isn’t much we can do,” said Granny.

“Well why don’t we just ask them?” asked Abigail. She looked to the other two adults who had the same sad look on their faces. The look like nothing was going to happen and the adults were sad for it. Why didn’t they act? Surely they were adults other adults would believe them.

“I’m not certain that the boys would tell us the truth,” said Gamps. “It isn’t something that most people like to admit to. Maybe if you asked Blake might answer you but if he asks you not to tell then you can’t break his trust. Right now he needs someone to trust more than anything.”

“Okay,” said Abigail. “Michael can’t be there though. He will get mad and then Blake won’t talk.”

Dumbledore nodded. He got up and walked over to Abigail and placed a weary hand on her shoulder. His face was the hardest to read but Abigail knew he must have felt the same weight she did. The two of them walked back down the hallway and into the living room. The paintings must have heard them talking as they followed from frame to frame into the living room.

“Michael would you mind helping me with something?” said Dumbledore. “In the other room?”

“Uh, sure,” he said as he set his book and parchment aside. 

Abigail passed him giving him a strong look before going to the couch. Draco stirred from his stupor and looked at the three of them obviously suspicious of what was going on. Abigail smiled at him but it was far to forced to keep the boy from suspecting anything. She waited till Dumbledore and Michael were out of sight before she shook Blake gently. He had still been sleeping and his eyes were slow to open. She just looked into them for a while. The sleep took a bit to get out of his eyes but it was obvious to her the fog that clung to him. It wasn’t just the potion from early but something deeper. Darker she feared.

“Blake,” Abigail started. She paused for a moment breaking eye contact for a moment. “Does someone hurt you at home?”

His eyes grew almost instantly teary and he looked away from her. He was being beat at home. There was no doubting it now in her mind. She placed a hand on his head and pulled his chin up so their eyes met again. He didn’t break contact again.

“Yes,” he whispered. “’S not just me.”

“Don’t tell her that,” said Draco clearly angry and yet it was fear that stuck out of it more than anything. “Father will beat us if he finds out we told anyone.”

“He shouldn’t hurt you at all,” said Abigail. “A dad is supposed to protect you. Not hurt you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco Malfloy

How could he do that? Did he want to get beat? Father was going to be so cross if anything came of this. Draco had needed time away from Hydra for this. Time to clear his head so he could hide this as well as possible. That Abigail girl wouldn’t tell anyone would she? No of course not. Then again what did Draco know of her? Only that Hydra trusted her implicitly and she had been the one to get him to speak again. Not that he was speaking now. No he hadn’t said a thing since they had left the Olivander’s house. Was Draco being too hard on Hydra? He couldn’t tell. A week and a half had gone by and nothing had come of it. Maybe they would get away with this little slip. No one would believe a young girl like her. No one at all.

Draco had just finished washing up for diner. Father was late and was likely to be cross tonight for it, so Draco had gotten to the table early. It was best to be presentable for Father. He had come up with some story about how well tutoring was going that would hopefully keep Father satisfied and he had talked to Dobby about getting out the good wine for diner tonight. Father would like that. Everything would be fine. Completely fine. He hoped.

Father was as expected cross when he came home. It came out in the way he walked like he was ready to pounce and Draco bowed to him and tried to keep a smile on his face. It was a bit risky but if father disliked it it would only be a slap he had to deal with. No a smile showed Father that everything was right at home. Even Mother had been acting cheery with him.

“Where is the boy?” asked Father. Draco’s heart skipped. Father only asked of Hydra when something had gone bad. It always ended with both Draco and Hydra being beat. Always. Draco eyed Mother hoping she would say something to calm Father.

“He is in the kitchen with the elf,” said Mother. “Being as quiet as a mouse as always. The two boys have been doing quite well in their tutoring. The tutor has sung praises of Draco’s improvements.”

“Oh that is good,” said Father with a fakely cheery voice. “So you know I have to keep up contacts with the Minister? Well I was having lunch with him today when the strangest thing happened. I was presented with court papers. Apparently someone is suing us. Funny really. It happens from time to time when some dribble things they can get a piece of our greatness. You won’t believe who it is that is suing us though. Albus Dumbledore himself.”

“What ever for?” asked Mother obviously worried. Draco knew it wasn’t about the lawsuit.

“He wants to take our son away from us,” said Father. “That bloody fuck thinks we are unfit to be guardians of Draco. I wonder what fucking git gave him that idea.”

Draco paused. There was no escaping the beating now. No way. Maybe if Draco ran he could at least delay it but the way Father had almost shouted made Draco freeze. As the first cup flew at the wall Draco jumped from his seat and sprinted towards the kitchen door. He had to get Hydra hidden. Surely there were places Father couldn’t find them.

“Fucking knew it was that blasted git,” shouted Father. He popped out of existence and Draco saw him ahead of him already between Draco and Hydra.

Focusing on Hydra, Draco didn’t see the backhand coming and it landed him against the wall. Draco had the wind blown out of him. Father reached for his wand and pointed it at Hydra who was frozen on a stool. Draco tried to shout but with out breath it only came out as a whimper. Mother had stepped up next to him and was trying to pick him up.

“Crucio,” shouted Father. Hydra screamed like nothing else and spasmed to the ground hitting his head against the stool as he fell from it. Father lifted his wand away from Hydra and strode over to him. His foot collided with Hydra sending him flopping over face up. “You fucking dare try to take my property away from me. Look at what you are making me do.” Father’s foot slammed into Hydra’s stomach sending him sliding across the floor. “I knew you were nothing but trouble. All because the damn woman has her nickers in a twist over he fucking useless sister. Crucio.”

Hydra screamed again though this time was far less loud and more of a gurgle than anything. Draco tried to stand pushing his mother off of him. She looked more than a little concerned and stepped towards Father. She said, “Lucius, dear.”

Father spun and pointed his wand at Mother. He shouted, “Stupefy.”

A red beam hit her and she tumbled to the floor. Draco ran up to her trying to catch her. Father however seemed unconcerned with any injury he may have just caused. Father turned back to Hydra and pointed his wand at Hydra. “Crucio.”

Screams once again filled the kitchen, though again weaker. After a few moments Father lifted his wand and stomped over to Hydra. Father kicked Hydra again then stomped on his leg. A sickening crack filled the air. Taking his wand he pressed it into the Hydra’s chest and Draco could see a flame burn something into the boy’s chest. Four letters. Daft. Kicking him once more Father stomped towards Draco.

“If you ever bloody talk to anyone again boy, I will rip yours and his tongue out,” shouted Father into Draco’s face. “Crucio.”

Draco had never felt such pain before. Nothing even the multiple beatings that Father had given him felt like this. It went on for what felt like forever as every single piece of him felt like it was burning and tearing over and over again. He wasn’t certain his heart was even beating. The screams were ragged and short from his body. Father lifted his wand from Draco and walked away grabbing a bottle of whiskey.

Draco laid on the floor for a while. He didn’t want to move. Everything echoed with the pain of the spell. But he could see blood seeping out of Hydra’s chest and he had to help him. He had to do something. Hydra would die and Draco couldn’t let that happen. No he was supposed to protect Hydra. Supposed to keep him safe and what had he done. He had sat there as Father had hurt Hydra. Draco pushed himself to his shaky feet. It hurt to walk but Draco pushed through it. Hydra needed him. Taking a towel he pushed it against Hydra’s chest feeling it move in ways it shouldn’t have. Hydra was breathing weirdly and seemed unconscious. What was Draco supposed to do? He didn’t know any magic to help him. Dobby stood near him crying.

“Dobby keep Father busy,” said Draco. “Please.”

“Dobby will do his best,” said Dobby shakily.

Draco pulled Hydra up over his shoulder hopping that the broken boy’s chest wouldn’t collapse from its own weight. The fireplace had a pot of floo, just like they all did. Draco grabbed a bit. He hoped he remembered the hospital’s name right. Shouting it he threw the powder into the fire and stepped in. There was the normal twirling and stretching and Draco stumbled out of a fireplace and into a nearly empty room.

“Please, Help,” Draco shouted. A witch jumped up from her chair and rushed over to them. She waved her wand and a pair of stretchers appeared out of thin air. Draco stumbled into her arms feeling the weight of his pain take over his mind. There wasn’t anything more he could do. Not now.


End file.
